The In Betweens
by poetif
Summary: "I don't beg for things Olivia," he continues. "But right now, I'm begging, begging for ten minutes of your time to go somewhere, anywhere and just…talk. Please." Ever wonder what happens "in between" days or eps with our favorite sergeant? I have. It's me so you gotta know it's EO. Rating will change to MA later...you've been warned. SVU Characters are Dick Wolf's.
1. Chance Encounters

**AN: I've never done this before but I'm going to break one of my own rules and post a story that doesn't yet have a conclusion. But trust me people. It WILL have one. And there are enough chapters already done to cement that. So without further ado, here it is. "The In Betweens".**

Olivia's having a good day, really she is. She and Nick closed a long case. She testified in another that's gone to trial and she found some time to update a few cold files. Therapy is going as well as it can be and she's sleeping better. Having someone to come home to, has been a nice departure from her regular routine of taking a shower and crashing on her sofa. But tonight, with Brian working yet another undercover operation for IAB, Olivia's been left to her own devices.

If she eats another box of lo mien she feels like she'll throw up and she's actually in the mood to cook. It's such a rarity that she goes with it, stopping at a local grocer for salmon, mixed veggies and brown rice. And because she's the wine drinker of the house, she's replacing the last of her merlot with a bottle of chardonnay. It seems Brian's favorite wine is beer.

She's moving through the various labels of merlots, pinot noirs, sauvignons and sangrias when she smells a familiar scent or at least she thinks she does. He'd taken to wearing cologne the last few years of their partnership when before, he hadn't bothered. It was a clean, masculine scent and she had immediately given him crap the moment she had smelled it. Elliot had mumbled something about his youngest daughter having gotten it for him for Father's Day and it would be an insult not to wear it.

Olivia suspected it was more the fact that several officers of the _female_ variety complemented him on his cologne. With those dimples and that body women generally took notice, seemingly with disregard to their age or the wedding ring he was wearing. But after the cologne they not only did a double take, they seemed to stand a little bit closer. She found herself doing the same and suspected that that may be the reason for his repeated use. It's not something she consistently entertained but it crept into her mind every now and again.

She literally shakes her head of the thought, grabs a Napa Valley label and heads for the check out. Elliot doesn't take up nearly the amount of space in her head that he used to. No. That real estate has been sequentially replaced by a serial killer about to blow her brains out, a dead hooker in her boss's bed, the subsequent fall out and oh yeah, being physically assaulted, mentally tortured and held hostage by a sadistic serial rapist without anyone, including her _boyfriend_, taking notice for two days.

It's something else she talks about in therapy when she's not discussing how to kick being burned with cigarettes, keys and coat hangers out of her brain. Or being forced to watch as someone else was brutally sexually assaulted. Olivia can't help that her mind supplied Elliot's face instead of Brian's when she was enduring it all. He had been the one constant in her life for over a decade.

And then he was just…gone.

Olivia's already discussed her abandonment issues with Dr. Lindstrom and since it's been three years, she's mostly passed them where he's concerned. But she has to admit, it still pisses her off from time to time thinking of how he ended their partnership. Twelve years together and she gets an envelope with his replica badge and two words, Semper Fi. Initially it was enough to draw a tear or two because she was just so overjoyed to hear from him. But later she realized just how empty those words felt to her. If he truly would be "always faithful" to their partnership, then why didn't she deserve a phone call, a text, an email, a post card saying "gone fishing"…something? Or perhaps a bit more than a simple note after _twelve_ years?

Ah well. She's wasted enough time ruminating on that, on him.

On the way to the checkout counter she remembers she's out of coffee creamer so she deviates to the dairy section. It's long past the holidays but as she reaches for her old standby of French vanilla, her hand diverts to the Peppermint Mocha and she smiles at the indulgence as she drops it into her basket. Apparently this particular grocer carries the holiday flavors all year round. She'll definitely have to remember that for next time.

"I thought you hated that stuff," says a voice, suddenly to her right.

It can't be.

She won't turn.

It's just her mind playing tricks on her. Perhaps her meds need to be adjusted because, he's…not…there.

He _can't_ be.

"Olivia?"

It sounds like him. She squeezes her eyes shut, counting to ten in her mind before taking a deep, cleansing breath.

Olivia turns to her left, away from the intrusive hallucination and heads for the checkout counter. A cadence of footsteps follows closely behind. It's a rhythm she hasn't heard since…but it can't be.

It's _not_ him. It's not him!

"Liv please."

She freezes where she is. Hearing her name in _his_ voice, smelling_ his_ scent, feeling_ his_ presence, first in her peripheral vision…then into full view…it's too much.

She needs time to process.

He's just as solid as he always has been in his charcoal suit and black overcoat. His sideburns are now dusted with slight feathers of gray, a few more laugh lines are on his forehead, but essentially he's the same. Dark blue eyes beckon for her attention, flashing sadness and a fear she's rarely seen in them before settling on…relief? Happiness to see her?

Olivia has wondered many times what she'd say to him if ever they crossed paths again. She doubted its likelihood in a city of millions but here he is and, she doesn't have the words. Yet she isn't worried because this is all on him and he looks just as clueless about what to say to her.

He reaches a hand out to touch her shoulder but thinks better of it and sticks them both in his pant pockets.

"How…how are you?" He decides to go with.

She doesn't answer right away, looking at him like she's disappointed that it's the best he could come up with.

"I'm fine Elliot," she answers before starting to push her cart away.

"Liv wait," he says.

"Why?" She tells him curtly. "It's not like you haven't known how to contact me all this time," she continues. "So whatever it is you have to say couldn't possibly be that important."

"I'm sorry," he tries again.

"Yes. You are," she returns before moving past him.

"Liv wait," he repeats, making the mistake of reaching for her arm.

She yanks out of his grasp, pulling away.

"Try that again and I'll forget we're in public," she says.

Elliot holds up both hands in surrender before lowering them. A couple of people have taken notice to their tones of voice and body language. After a few seconds of silence between them, they go back to minding their own business.

"I'm a coward," he begins. "And I realize you owe me absolutely nothing," he adds.

"So far we're in agreement."

He takes a breath, looking down at his shoes before continuing. If he's suffering through this moment it's too damn bad because there's no way in hell she's rescuing him.

"I don't beg for things Olivia," he continues. "But right now, I'm begging, _begging_ for ten minutes of your time to go somewhere, anywhere and just…talk. _ Please_."

She's probably known him better than any other person she's ever met in her life. He hates to ask for anything. So as hesitant as she is, and as much as she'd rather dismiss him the way Elliot relatively dismissed her, there's a still small voice in her head that tells her to give him that ten minutes.

So that's what she decides to do.

Olivia reaches into her purse for one of her latest business cards and a pen. She scrawls her new address on the back and holds it out to him.

"I'll meet you there in twenty minutes," she says.

Elliot's careful not to brush his fingertips against hers as he accepts it.

"Thank you," he replies in a near whisper.

"Just…don't make me regret it."

He nods his understanding, takes his meager purchases and heads for the express lane. Olivia lingers as she exits the store. Even though its cold out and she'd usually take a taxi, she finds that she needs that three blocks of crisp chill air to clear her head.

Her mind is racing with so many questions that she has a slight headache by the time she makes it home. Elliot must have driven because though he'd only left a few minutes ahead of her, the same wind-bitten redness of her face isn't present in his. He isn't wearing gloves, his scarf is hanging out of his coat pocket and whatever purchases he made aren't with him.

He's leaning against the wall with his legs crossed at the ankles, head down, and seemingly lost in thought. Good, she thinks. Because he'd better have come up with a damn good reason for interrupting the normalcy she had to find again after what she's been put through lately. It hasn't been easy but Olivia believes she's found some balance, so heaven help him if he thinks he's gonna screw that up.

Elliot looks up as he sees her walking down the hall. When she's close enough, Olivia doesn't stop him from reaching for and holding some of her bags as she opens the door. She directs him to drop her purchases on the kitchen counter while she sheds her coat to put inside a nearby closet before following him.

"You moved," he says, stating the obvious.

"Yeah," she responds, not giving him anything more.

"Do you need any help?" He asks, watching as she begins putting away the groceries.

"No," she tells him. "Why don't you have a seat out there and I'll be done in a minute."

He gives her a short nod before turning and taking the few steps to the chair adjacent to the sofa. Elliot doesn't bother removing his overcoat. She's giving him the ten minutes he begged for and said nothing of making himself comfortable in the meantime. He doesn't blame her for her aloofness. He knows he'd be just as pissed if the tables were turned. Olivia had the excuse of being undercover and even then she tried to talk to him but he'd missed her by seconds. And though it felt longer, she was only gone for a matter of weeks. Elliot's been incommunicado for three years.

_Three years. _

He feels it was fate that he saw her today. Maybe, just maybe, he'll be able to convince Olivia to allow him back into her life. Elliot knows she's capable of great patience and understanding. But he's also well aware of the fact that she doesn't usually give people a second chance to hurt her.

As Elliot watches her put the final item away, he braces himself and tries to gather his thoughts and find the right words that'll hopefully persuade her to give him one of those rare second chances. When she enters the living room, she sits on the sofa as far away from him as she can get. There's no offer of a drink, no chit-chat, no asking about his kids. Those are things two friends would do and she's made it crystal clear that it's a title he no longer holds. She sits comfortably against the back sofa cushions, hands clasped in front of her, looking at her watch and says, "I'm listening."

Just like that.

"I've learned…that my usual method for these kinds of conversations is to say as little as possible and hope the other person figures out what I mean," he begins. "But that hasn't worked, not to mention you deserve more than that…you deserve the truth."

The only response she gives is more silence and a simple nodding of her head.

"And the truth is, I knew I should've talked to you before handing in my papers," he admits. "I didn't because I knew how easy it would've been for you to convince me to stay."

"So you ignored me instead," she says, finally speaking, challenging him to say otherwise.

"Yes," he tells her. "And I can't apologize enough for that," he adds. "I couldn't get that girl outta my head, my career was over and with that, a job that gave me purpose and a second family that made it all bearable."

"And that's how you treat family?" She asks, bringing her anger boiling to the surface again.

"No," he asserts. "God no Liv," he tells her. "But whatever angry, self-destructive behavior you witnessed the first time I _thought_ I lost my family, imagine that ten times worse and turned inward," he explains. "I wasn't...in a good place and I couldn't let you see me like that."

"Like what exactly?" She says, no longer able to sit. "Drinking, yelling, being violent," she continues, as she paces the small area. "Because it's not like I have _any_ experience with that," she tells him, alluding to her upbringing with an alcoholic mother. "Right?"

"I know you do," he responds. "Which is why I wasn't gonna to put you through it again," he explains. "I drank, I alienated my kids and after six months of putting up with my shit, Kathy gave me the ultimatum of getting help or getting out."

Olivia rubs her hand against her forehead, takes a breath and returns to the sofa visibly more calm. She hadn't realized how much _he'd_ gone through since his forced retirement. She'd just believed, hoped that he and his family got their happily ever after.

"So, I started seeing someone three days a week…for a whole year," he continues. "He said the anger, the drinking, the insomnia and barely eating was a form of depression…something I've never dealt with before."

"I'm sorry you went through that," she offers.

"Don't apologize, Liv," he says, before the words have barely fallen from her lips. "I'm the one that owes an apology," he contends. "There were so many times I picked up the phone to call and I was just too much of a coward to actually dial your number," he confesses. "After so long I just figured you probably wouldn't answer anyway," he tells her. "I figured you just…hate me for how I decided things without your input."

Olivia exhales slowly, nodding her head in the process.

"Hate?" She asks, her voice emotional and raspy. "Yes."

Elliot's eyes fall away from hers, focusing instead on his shoes.

"I hated that I punished my new partner because he wasn't _you_," she begins. "I hated the disappointment I felt when he didn't do something like you would have or say something quite the right way."

He simply sits there and lets her go on, believing himself to be deserving of every terse word.

"I hated looking up to find his face sitting across from me instead of yours, I hated his walk because his steps didn't match mine," she adds, getting up again.

"I hate that I can see us in the two new detectives and all I wanna do is warn them," she continues, pacing. "Warn them that they shouldn't get too close, that they shouldn't let each other in, that sooner or later they're gonna hurt one another."

"Liv…

"No!" She yells. "You had your ten minutes so your damn well gonna give me mine!"

He sees the fire in her eyes, the way her breathing has picked up and knows how much she means it and how badly she needs to say everything he prevented her from getting off her chest with his unexpected exit.

He nods, she continues.

"I hate," she begins again, marginally calmer. "That you let me know what it's like to be so connected to a person that you can anticipate their every move and know what they're thinking," she goes on. "And I hate that you reminded me that despite the ugliness that brought me into this world…that it wasn't inside of _me_," she says, in a voice that cracks with emotion.

_And look how great you turned out._

Elliot is up then, approaching her. He never could handle her upset, her tears. But she stops him, putting both hands up in front of her and effectively halting his forward progress.

"Calvin was taken away from me, I mourned the losses of Sister Peg and Sonja," she says, her voice breaking. "So I hated having to mourn the loss of our part…partnership in the same damn year."

She lowers her hands, attempting to collect herself. Her fists are balled up at her sides but the rising and falling of her chest is still visible.

"I _hate_ that you told me you were my partner for better or worse but when the worse came…when the shit truly hit the fan, you proved yourself to be like everyone else in my life has been…temporary."

She angrily swipes at her tears, pissed that he's the reason she's shed more.

"And you know what the kicker is?" She asks, rhetorically. "Despite all those things I hated, I still can't bring myself to hate _you_ Elliot."

He approaches her again, thinking it's safe to reach for her. Connecting with a right cross to his jaw, nearly breaking her hand in the process, she happily proves him wrong.

Elliot doesn't fall but her blow is enough to make him stumble and leave him clutching his face in pain.

"Son of a bitch," he says, gingerly opening and closing his mouth, rubbing his jaw.

She's trying to shake the ache from her hand as she heads to the kitchen for some ice. He watches, still dazed as she retrieves a dish towel from a kitchen drawer before gathering ice from the in-door refrigerator dispenser. Olivia approaches him, pulls his hand away from his face and shoves the rag of ice into it before returning to the kitchen.

"If you're expecting an apology…

"I don't," he interrupts. Then, "I think you loosened a filling," a few seconds later.

"Good," she tells him.

What's good he thinks, is that she hasn't kicked him out yet. His ten minutes has long since been up, she's yelled at him, hit him even but still she hasn't shown him the door. Elliot eyes her wearily as she opens her wine, pulling out a single glass.

"Olivia," he says, causing her to pause just before her lips touch the rim.

When she places the glass down again he holds her attention, acknowledging how he's hurt her and how bad he feels for it with just the eye contact. It seems a bit of their connection_ is_ still there. Elliot cautiously takes his coat off, waiting for the moment she'll stop him, praying it won't come.

Amazingly to them both, it does not.

Olivia turns her back to him, leaning against the counter. Picking up her drink again with her left hand she takes a sip, hoping it'll help her regain some semblance of control before she rests it on the counter again. She hates being emotional, especially in front of Elliot.

Unsure of where they stand he continues in toeing the water, walking towards her and into the small space of the kitchen. Noticing the redness that's already tinting her knuckles, he knows that swelling and pain won't be too far behind.

Her right hand rests against the counter. Elliot cautiously picks it up, gently takes it in his own and applies the ice filled towel. His focus is on her hand, blotting at the skin so as not to leave the cold in one spot for too long.

"It's gonna swell if you don't ice it right away," he manages.

He knows it's going to cost him something to look into her face. But whatever pain is there is something he caused. And though he doesn't know what kind of penance must be done for alienating your best friend for three years, he'll happily do it if it means her forgiveness.

When Elliot raises his eyes to hers, he sees that while some of the anger is still present, it's currently being overshadowed by the hurt. As one last tear manages to slip past her normally stoic defenses, he abandons the towel on the counter and takes a chance by reaching for her again.

This time he isn't met with a fist. Olivia hesitates to return the embrace for a few seconds but ultimately gives in and returns the hug.

"I'm sorry Liv," he whispers, uncharacteristically. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…," he continues, holding tighter then tighter still.

The hold onto each other for long moments and by the time they decide to let go, Elliot's eyes are red-rimmed from shedding his own tears.

"What can I do?" He asks, swiping away the moisture from his face.

She exhales, turning away from him to rest both hands against the counter. What _can_ he do to make up for betraying her trust? Hurting her? Ignoring her? For being aware of all the people she lost before he left and adding to that by severing all ties to her when she needed him the most? Olivia has no idea how to answer those questions.

"I don't…I don't know that there's anything-

"Then," he interrupts, not wanting to hear her rejection. "For _tonight_, can we please just talk…like we used to?" He asks, hopefully.

Olivia considers this for a few moments, causing Elliot to be simultaneously fearful and nervous. When she finally, blissfully nods her head, needless to say, he's very relieved. "I was gonna make dinner," she says without meeting his eyes. He notices her flexing her right hand again. "I think I have enough for two."

"Why don't you let me?"

"Let you what?" She asks, turning to remove food from the refrigerator.

"Cook," he answers. "I've taken some classes," he reveals, looking over what she's taken out. "If you just tell me where everything is, I'll get started."

After she explains things, Olivia takes a seat at the counter as he preheats the oven, and gathers spices and seasonings.

"You really look like you know what you're doing," she comments, using the same towel full of ice she'd given him to sooth her aching hand.

"I do," he tells her.

Olivia watches him for a few minutes longer to make sure he has everything he needs before excusing herself to take a shower and change. After closing her bedroom door behind herself, she leans against it, taking her face in her hands.

She's processing again because she can't believe that Elliot's actually there, that she was able to finally release all she'd been holding onto for so long. After he'd left without a word to her, Olivia had taken all her anger and frustration out of anyone in her path.

His abrupt departure had her questioning herself as a cop, as a victim's advocate and how he could've shared twelve years with her and yet was still able to cut off all ties as if they'd meant nothing to one another, like they hadn't gone through hellfire together.

The last hour has been very cathartic for Olivia. She can barely fathom that she's actually punched him but he damn well deserved it. She knows how sorry he is and understands his reasoning, but it doesn't mean he hadn't hurt her terribly and she feels she successfully conveyed that point with her fist. It still smarts by the way. Damn him and his rock-hard head.

In the kitchen Elliot's turned off the oven, opting instead to grill some chicken and vegetables for stir-fry. It's the last recipe he prepared in the class he took with his first born. Maureen apparently hadn't been paying attention to Kathy growing up so she felt like she could use some tips.

He hopes his former partner likes his newly learned culinary skills. It's the least he can do to make up for…well…he can't really make up for the pain he saw in her eyes just minutes ago. But he'll do whatever it takes to try. And even if he never sees her again past tonight, he can say that he made the effort.

The way she behaved at the grocery store, Elliot knew she would have hit him then if it weren't for the fact that they were in public. He had never seen her that angry, or at least not directed at him, not in the years before he left. Then again, he'd never hurt her to this degree. He feels like offering up the other side of his face to punch.

"Something smells good," Olivia comments as she returns to her spot on the kitchen stool. Knowing she's in for the night, she opted for a long V-neck t-shirt and some leggings in bare feet.

"Let's hope it tastes the same."

Elliot prepares a plate and slides it in front of her. He tops off her chardonnay, putting it next to her food. He repeats the same for himself but opts for a beer before sitting on the adjacent stool.

"How's it taste?" He asks, after watching her take the first bite.

"It's good," she says.

"Thanks," he tells her. "When did you switch to Blue Moon?" He asks, sipping on the orange flavored beer. "That tastes…weird."

"It's uh, not mine," she tells him. "It's Brian's."

"Oh, right."

"What's that mean?" She asks, defensively.

"I ran into Munch a couple of months ago," he begins. "I'm sorry, special investigator for the D.A.'s office Munch," he corrects, getting a slight grin from her. "He uh…filled me in on some things."

He didn't bother to mention that while he'd casually asked about Fin and Cragen, his sole focus was on Olivia and her well-being after the nightmare she was put through by William Lewis. Elliot's relief at hearing that she was getting on okay was immeasurable. If anything had happened to her, he would've blamed himself until the grave.

"And what kinds of things has our incomparably nosey friend filled you in on?" She asks, shifting uncomfortably.

"He just said you've uh…been with Cassidy for over a year, that Cragen's on a six month cruise with his lady friend until his retirement kicks in and that you are now _Sergeant_ Benson," he tells her. "Congrats by the way."

"Thanks," she says. "Now what are you leaving out?"

Elliot rests his forearm on the counter, pushing the food around on his plate instead of actually bringing the fork to his mouth. He averts his eyes, knowing for the second time in a couple of hours, they're about to have an unpleasant conversation.

"He said…the Lewis case…that it was really bad," he begins. "Assured me that you were okay but," he stumbles.

"But what Elliot?" She asks, impatiently.

"That you aren't the same," he answers, finally meeting her eyes.

"Who would be?" She asks incredulously. "But the department shrink cleared me and I'm still seeing my own, so you can both stop worrying."

"Right, okay," he tells her, taking a sip of his weird beer. "It's just Munch being Munch I guess."

Olivia eyes him sideways before continuing with her meal. She knows there's more he hasn't told her, but she'll let him get comfortable and after they've eaten she'll spring it on him. Elliot may have retired but _she's_ still a great interrogator. So, she goes with her old standby of asking about his family.

"How're the kids?" She asks, nonchalantly.

Elliot smiles immediately, he can't help himself.

"They're good," he begins. "Kathleen's in law school, the twins are undergrad at NYU…

"No Marines for Dickie, I mean Rick?" She interrupts.

"No," he says, smiling. "Thank God he came to his senses about that," he says, resuming his meal. "I think his latest major is journalism. Maureen is working on her PhD in Psychology and Eli's conquering first grade."

"That's good Elliot," she tells him. "I'm glad everyone's okay."

"Yeah," he says, his smile changing to a somber grin.

And there it is again, that something Olivia knows he's leaving out.

"That wasn't bad," she says, sipping the last of her wine before pouring another glass.

"Thanks," he tells her, getting up to load the dishwasher with their plates and silverware. She tells him where the detergent is and he hits the start button.

Olivia picks up her glass, carrying it into the living room. Cassidy's beer having grown on him, he decides to take it with him when he joins her. She sits on the sofa and Elliot feels comfortable enough to join her. He sat on her left as they ate so she hadn't noticed then. And before, when they were hugging it out in her kitchen, she was in no shape to pay attention. But now, now she's noticed.

"Elliot," she begins. "Where's your ring?"

**AN: Come on, are you seriously going to read all that and not let me know how you feel about it in a review? I don't ask for them because I'm a review junkie…okay…not solely for that reason. But I've honestly used them in the past to improve my writing, so if you have suggestions or even gripes, feel free to review this thing.**


	2. Explanations & Goodbyes?

Elliot brings up his hand in front him, looking at it and turning it over as if his unadorned finger is foreign. Then he rubs the ring finger of his left hand with the thumb and index of his right. He sucks in his bottom lip, worrying it with his teeth before releasing it again.

They sit a respectable distance apart. Olivia, with one foot beneath her resting in the corner, him wide legged, hands clasped in front of him, sitting in the middle. Elliot's focus shifts from his hands to the black screen of her switched off television.

"She filed for divorce again," he informs her. "I'm not contesting it this time."

During the first legal separation he was a bitter, angry man. This time he's only amazed at the fact that Kathy hadn't done it sooner. He'll always love her for being the mother of his children. But he doesn't feel the way a husband should feel for his wife and she's admitted it's the same for her.

In looking at Olivia's expression though, he can tell that the news is a shock.

"I don't know what to say."

They were separated for nearly two years before reconciling. He knows his former partner is finding it hard to believe that they've stopped trying to keep things together for the sake of the children or child in this case. His youngest is the last bird in the nearly empty nest.

"Kathy and I are working it out with Eli," he informs her. "That's why I'm in the city today," he continues. "Filling out more paperwork with my attorney."

When he saw Olivia in the store he thought he'd gone off the deep end..._again_. He thinks God must've taken pity on his sorry ass in order to have let him cross paths with her after all this time. His heart sped up, his mouth went dry and his hands got all sweaty. It was the first panic attack he'd actually enjoyed.

"Married for nearly three decades," she begins, interrupting his thoughts. "It's gotta be hard letting go."

Elliot gives her a sad smile.

"We had some good years and some not so good years," he tells her. "After I retired, the bad got…_worse_," he attempts to explain.

"You told me you gave in to her ultimatum and got help," she says. "That wasn't enough?"

He's hesitant to tell her the truth but knows full well that it's what she deserves. No more lies, no more secrets, no more talking in circles and never saying anything of value.

"When I found out you were…taken," he begins. "And the type of predator Lewis is, that didn't…I didn't do well with that," he says, hugely understating things. "I used every connection I still had in the department to try to find out what I could about their progress in finding you."

In seeing the shade of his eyes slightly darken, watching him wring his hands and seeing the expression on his face, Olivia can tell he's back there again, waiting to hear whether or not she'd been raped, tortured and/or murdered.

She doesn't know what to feel about the fact that he was so obviously affected by what was done to her.

"When the leads weren't coming fast enough or weren't good enough I…I went out," he continues, pausing to take a seemingly much needed swig of bear. "I went out all hours of the day and night to look for you…finding you became my sole focus," he acknowledges. "I didn't eat or sleep, until they found you."

Olivia had sincerely thought his world had happily spun on without her and that he hadn't given her a second thought once he'd retired. She's been so angry with him and now…what the hell does she do with this information?

"That was nearly three days Elliot," is all she can manage.

He laughs humorlessly.

"I know," he says, rubbing the label of the beer bottle with his thumb. "I know but…you're my partner."

In his mind she always will be. He'd had several before her but no one as compassionate, resilient, driven and…attuned to him.

"_Was_ Elliot," she corrects. "I _was _your partner."

He nods in agreement, sipping at his beer again.

"Yeah…Kathy had a problem with me not making that distinction too."

"Does she blame me for your divorce?"

"No," he contends, eyes finally meeting hers again. "God no," he repeats in a calmer voice. "As much as it makes me sound like a dick, ending my career left me more depressed and self-destructive than losing my _marriage_ did the first time around," he reveals. "I'm to blame."

"But you just said…

"I know Liv, but even before what happened with Jenna Fox, I knew it was heading that way," he admits. "So it's not your fault, not even a little bit."

She nods her understanding, not necessarily believing him after what he's just told her.

"I wanted to see you…in the hospital," he continues. "But by the time I got there, you were gone."

Now it's her turn to stare at the blank television screen.

"I wasn't there long enough for visitors," she offers. "Because I didn't have any life threatening injuries," she adds. "They cleaned up some superficial wounds, gave me a soft cast for my wrist and I left shortly after."

His eyes fall to the V of her t-shirt. He can make out faint scars from Lewis' assault on her and it both turns his stomach and raises his blood pressure.

"How long did _thos_e take to heal?" He asks, gesturing with a slight nod of his head.

Olivia has learned to live with them so she didn't think twice about choosing a shirt that wouldn't cover them up. And, she didn't think he'd notice but of course he has. She looks into his eyes but knowing no answer will satisfy him, she doesn't bother to respond.

Elliot is visibly upset because he knows how many times in the past she'd minimize what was going on with her so it didn't seem like a big deal. It's a character flaw they share. He stands again, moving away from her to look out the window, crossing his arms over his chest. Night has fallen in the city, the sky is surprisingly clear enough to see the stars and he's gotten very quiet.

"He's lucky I didn't find you first," he says after a minute, his back still to her. "No one could've stopped me from killing him."

That intensity, the fierce loyalty where she's concerned has always amazed her. And it's the reason why so many people speculated that the relationship they had went beyond partnership, why Cragen called for them to be evaluated by Rebecca Hendrix.

As many times as she denied it, as often as she dismissed it and tried to liken their connection to Munch and Fin's, she knows they were different. Truth be told, it always scared her a little.

"Not even me?" She asks.

Olivia could swear she sees him stop breathing at the question. She gets up, coming to stand behind him at the window. As soon as she lays a hand on his shoulder, he visibly exhales and she knows she was right.

"Can you honestly tell me you don't want him dead?" He asks, catching her off guard with his own question.

Her hand drops away as she notices the reflection of them in the window. They wear the experience of their years and all they've seen on their faces like masks that can't be removed, two weary tortured souls.

"No," she answers honestly. "I barely left him alive myself," she admits. "But having _you_ do that and potentially have to face life behind bars without your family…it wouldn't have been worth it," she tells him. "His life for yours is no fair trade."

He turns to face her then, so close she has to back up to take breath.

"I wanted to call you," she confesses. "When he had me."

He pierces his eyebrows together, staring at her intently then, "You did?"

Too close. They're standing too close and everything she felt when Lewis had her is right at the surface. So she distances herself from him altogether, returning to the sofa.

"Yeah," she says. "He said he wanted me to think of the last person I'd want to see before I died," she continues, her voice getting emotional again. "And as angry as I am for the way you left, my mind still supplied your name, your face."

Olivia chances a look at his direction and finds his eyes on her. His expression is a combination of surprise, sympathy and something more, something that she shouldn't or doesn't want to see. She quickly flits her eyes away from his.

It doesn't stop him from returning to his position next to her on the couch. But he gives her some space.

"I played high school football, I've seen war, I was a cop for over half my life," he says, counting each one off on a finger. "And you are by far, _the_ most courageous person I've ever met," he concludes.

She shakes her head in the negative that he's wrong then says, "I'm a victim Elliot."

He reaches over, places his hand over hers and holds on.

"You're a survivor Liv," he asserts. "You always have been."

Olivia closes her eyes at his confidence in her. Allowing herself to forget for a second that she's still angry, she squeezes his hand back before getting up to refill her wine glass as he looks on.

"So how does it feel to be in charge Sergeant?" He asks, changing the subject.

Olivia gives him as close to what he remembers as her real smile and it warms his heart.

"Tiring," she answers. "I have two detectives who are just as stubborn as you were, and just as determined to do things their own way as I…still am, and who can fight as hard as we used to."

"Wow," he says. "Good luck with that."

"I need it," she says, settling back on the sofa with her wine.

"When's the trial start?" He asks, growing serious again.

Elliot looks at her after posing the question and her expression immediately changes. Her guard's back up but she answers.

"In a few weeks," she tells him, replacing her glass on the table.

She removes her foot from beneath her, mimicking his position. Olivia appears visibly shaken simply thinking about the repercussions of taking the stand.

"What is it?" He asks, turning towards her, offering sincerity.

"I can't…

"You don't trust me anymore," he concludes.

Olivia's off the couch, suddenly needing the distance. If you would've told her yesterday that by 6pm her ex-partner would be sitting on her and Brian's sofa, she would've called you a liar.

"I haven't seen you in three years Elliot," she says, reminding him. "Did you give me a reasonable explanation for why that is? Yes. But that doesn't make how you treated me any less…screwed up," she adds, hands on her hips. "And this…talking that we're doing…is fine but it doesn't make it all better."

"You're right," he admits. "So instead…tell me about the new detectives?"

She considers it for a moment, then agrees and rejoins him on the sofa.

"Nick Amaro," she begins. "He became my partner when you left," she continues. "He's trustworthy, he's saved my life more than once and he doesn't usually talk trash about anyone I've dated."

"Usually?"

Of course he would notice that _one_ word.

"He and Cassidy mixed it up on a couple of cases," Olivia tells him. "Nick's confronted him, stuck a gun in his face."

"Sounds like we'd get along."

She rolls her eyes at him, same old Elliot.

"He questioned my loyalties where he and Cassidy are concerned," she continues. "But we eventually got past it and we're good now."

With Amaro's volatility over his family issues and his accusations about Olivia's trust, it reminds her of the arguments she used to have with Elliot. She's glad they don't have the added complication of being physically attracted to one another.

"Speaking of Cassidy, where was he when you were taken?"

Knowing he's on thin ice with her, he still can't bring himself _not _to ask.

"Don't go there Elliot," she warns. "Where the hell have _you_ been for the last three years?"

He winces at the question, surprised that it's taken this long for her to ask.

"I wasn't here for you and I'm sorry," he says fervently. "I just hate that you were missing for two days and he didn't even freaking notice."

"Cassidy was working," she explains, unable to stop herself.

Olivia knows she doesn't have to, shouldn't have to defend Brian to anyone, _especially_ to Elliot of all people.

He knows he should just let it drop, that she could kick him out at any second but it doesn't stop him. Elliot gets up from the sofa, beginning to pace.

"Olivia he wasn't working for forty-eight hours straight," he begins, unable to contain his anger despite the fact that he blames himself as well. "How the hell did he not touch base with you for that long and not have any red flags go up?"

She's asked herself the same damn question. No, they weren't living together at the time. But they'd had plans and after not hearing from her for two days, she was told later that Cassidy wasn't even the one that initiated the search. It was Captain Cragen that told Fin and Rollins to go by her apartment to check on her.

But those are her issues to deal with alone with her shrink, not her former partner.

"You don't have the right to ask those questions Elliot," she tells him. "Maybe he assumed I was working," she suggests. "Kathy didn't know where the hell you were all the damn time either!"

"But _you_ knew," he lobs, pointing at her from across the room. "And therefore she didn't have to worry!"

To him it was more important for Olivia to have known his whereabouts than his own _wife_. That realization dawns on both of them as their heated eyes meet for long moments before they have to look away.

"The only person I blame besides William Lewis," she begins calmly, after a few seconds of silence. "Is myself," she admits. "But I'm working on that."

"You've been doing the job long enough to know how misplaced that blame is," he says, reclaiming his spot next to her.

"I realize that," Olivia tells him. "But it doesn't stop me from replaying everything I feel like I did wrong."

Elliot reaches over and gives her back a short reassuring rub.

"I'm sorry for yelling," he begins. "I'm still working on the asshole portion of my personality with my own shrink."

She has a curt laugh at his expense before meeting his eyes again. Elliot smiles at her. Olivia smiles back. And for a brief moment it's just how it used to be, sharing an inside joke, finishing each other's sentences, Benson and Stabler against the world.

But she's not his partner anymore and though it was difficult without him at first, she's adjusted. She's not only found her stride in his absence but she's grown professionally and personally. _If_ Olivia decides to forgive him, she doesn't know where he'd fit.

His hand slides away from her back, returning to his lap.

"So, what about this other detective?"

"Ah Amanda Rollins from Atlanta," she says with a smile. "Smart, tech savvy, empathetic, great undercover but definitely has her own stuff to work through," she adds, referring to Amanda's trouble magnet of a sister. "Good detective though and she's accurate with her psych profiles."

"I'm glad you're in such good hands," he tells her. "And I have…another confession to make," he says after a few moments of quiet.

She looks at him, preparing for the worse. Though she doesn't think he could top what he's already told her.

"I was at your sergeant's ceremony," he says. "Munch told me about it but I didn't think you'd want me there."

"To be honest, I don't know how I would've taken that," she admits. "But I appreciate the support."

"I didn't wanna potentially cause a scene on your special day."

Olivia nods her understanding.

"But for what it's worth, I was cheering you on from the crowd at the back of the room," he tells her.

She tilts her head to the side, giving him a grin.

"Thank you," she says.

For a few minutes they just sit enjoying the stillness of the room, each of them silently delighting in the fact that they're in each other's presence again. There is but one lamp on in the quaint space and despite their distance, anyone looking on would get a vibe of intimacy between them.

Elliot takes the opportunity to look at her, really look at her like he hasn't been able to in for long. Her hair's shorter, she has a few more laugh lines but essentially, she's just as beautiful as she was the last day he saw her.

Olivia is resting her head against the back of the sofa cushions with her eyes closed. She takes a few deep breaths, settling in and allowing a good meal and the calming effect of the wine to relax her. When she opens her eyes again, she's nearly startled to find him watching her, unguarded.

"What?"

"Nothing," he tells her, refocusing on the dark screen of her television.

She really shouldn't probe any further. It's their M.O. just to let things drop. But neither is the person they used to be. Besides, he offered her honesty and she's damn well going to let him make good on it.

"You said you'd be open Elliot," she reminds him.

He exhales before meeting her eyes again. He wants to tell her she's beautiful but they've never complimented each other on their physical appearances or so much as agreed when someone else did. So he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable by doing so now.

"I did," he acknowledges. "But it's nothing…I'm just…I'm really happy I ran into you and…that you're okay."

It's the truth, most of it.

"Getting there," she responds with a slight smile.

"I'm glad," he tells her. "So then therapy…it's helping?"

"It is," she answers. "So is changing my routine and making time to take in a show every now and then," she describes. "I've also taken some self-defense classes and managed to go watch a friend of mine coach his kid's softball games from time to time."

Olivia senses there's something else he wants to know and is either too scared to ask or doesn't think she'll receive it well. But she'll wait. She can be patient, when she wants to be.

"Good, that's…that's good Liv," he says, refocusing on the television, despite the fact that it's off. "How are things…

_Here we go_, she thinks.

"How are things with you and Brian?" He finally manages. "I mean, if it's okay to ask."

He's back to fidgeting with the label of the one beer he's been nursing all night, now starting to peel at the paper and adhesive.

"We're fine," she tells him minimally.

Olivia of course leaves out the part about how they came in contact again with him working for a pimp (undercover though it was), how he slept with prostitutes as a job perk, how he threw Amaro under the bus when he was accused of rape to save his own ass, and she's _definitely_ leaving out the part where he lost then earned his shield back by working for the rat squad.

Despite the change she sees, the fact that he blew up about Brian not noticing she was missing, is more than enough to assure her that the Elliot she knew is still in there, alive and well. Undoubtedly it's part of the same version of him that never liked _anyone_ she dated.

"But are you," he begins before swallowing as if he's about to ask the most difficult question in the world. "Are you happy?"

How does she answer that? The fact that's she's hesitating is telling to them both. Is she happy not to be alone anymore? Yes. But is she happy that it's Cassidy she's with? Not lately. She could say it's good to have someone to come home to but he's never there anymore.

"It's good to have someone," she decides on, effectively dodging the question.

He gives her the hint of a smile because they both know she didn't answer. Fortunately for Olivia, she didn't offer Elliot the same honesty tonight and being who he is now, he won't call her on it. He's letting her get away with it because of the fragile, tenuous state of whatever the hell it is they're trying to be to one another right now.

"I'm gonna go," he tells her, getting up to toss his empty bottle away. "I have an early day tomorrow."

She leaves the couch to meet him at the door as he puts his suit jacket and overcoat back on. Olivia's half afraid she'll wake up tomorrow thinking she hallucinated the last several hours. It seems to her a dream would be the only way she'd get the kind of closure with Elliot that she's gotten tonight.

And he'd rather not leave.

Elliot would sit and talk with her all night just because he's been starved of hearing her voice for so long. But he's afraid that the longer he sits next to her, the more apt he is to say or do something stupid. And refusing to let her out of his sight again is number one because apparently Cassidy sucks at keeping her out of harm's way or at minimum checking on her.

And it's not like he doesn't know how archaic that line of thinking is. But he's played the roles of husband, father and partner all of his adult life and they all protect. All equate to keeping someone he cares about safe and he wants that for her.

Dr. Crawley's going to have a field day with that one on his next office visit.

"I almost forgot," he says, reaching into his coat pocket.

He pulls out a shiny gold shield, smiling when Olivia's eyes grow large in surprise.

"You're with the DIA now?"

The DIA are New York City's Detective's Investigative Association, a group of investigators employed by the five county District Attorneys and the Special Narcotics Prosecutor. They're known as Detective Investigators or Rackets Investigators because they got their start under Thomas E. Dewey's "racket busters" back in the 30's. And most of the more than 300 of them have twenty plus years as cops. He fit right in.

"For the last few months thanks to Munch," he says, excitedly. "I report directly to the DA's office, so no IAB to deal with," he informs her. "The division works everything from cold case homicides to sex crimes to narcotics cases," he continues. "It's always different so I can't see getting burned out."

"And the hours?"

"They're great for the most part because I work mostly cold cases," he answers. "So it's really like a 9-5 job unless I get pulled in to help on something else."

"That's good," she says, returning his new badge. "I'm happy for you."

"Me too," he says. "Whoever said the number one killer of retirees is retirement wasn't lying," he tells her. "When something you've tied your identity to for so long is gone, it just…it sucks."

Olivia knows. Because hers was not only tied to a some_thing_ but it was tied to a some_one_ for twelve years.

"One more thing."

He reaches into his inside pocket for a pen after pulling out a business card. Elliot writes down his new address and private cell number before handing it to Olivia.

"If you decide you wanna call," he adds in a near whisper.

"Thanks," Olivia tells him, taking the card but not committing one way or another. She's still yet to make up her mind about giving him, giving _them_ a second chance.

So in case it truly is the last time he sees her, Elliot takes the opportunity to draw her into another firm embrace.

"I've missed you," he says, vehemently. "So damn much."

If it's at all possible, she tightens her hold on him.

"I've missed you too El," she says, as they pull away.

He smiles greatly at this.

"It's the first time you've called me that tonight," he points out. "I'm pretty sure I've missed that too."

Olivia reaches up to gingerly touch his jaw. It's starting to get some nasty coloring to it.

"How are you gonna explain this?" She asks, noticing they're still standing very close but not moving to create space.

"I'll figure something out," he responds, shrugging his shoulders.

After inspecting her damage, Olivia's eyes find his again as she drops her hand. Elliot surprises her by taking hold of it.

"And how will you explain this?" He asks, running his thumb tenderly over her reddened knuckles.

She's surprised by the butterflies his touch inspires.

"I'll ice it tonight," she tells him. "It'll be fine by morning."

He doesn't know whether she'll give him the second chance he's hoping for. So if it's going to be the last time he sees her, _not_ taking the opportunity to kiss her won't be added to the very long list of his regrets in his life where she's concerned.

The way he's looking at her she knows it's coming and she does nothing to stop it. This entire night has been about her getting the closure that never came after he left. The ignored phone calls, voice messages with pleas to simply call her back were explained but she didn't truly feel validated until she got to tell him how she felt. And landing a fist to his jaw was just as cathartic.

So if he wants to end the night with a kiss goodbye, Olivia won't stop him.

Elliot lays a hand against the side of her neck, leans in and brushes his lips over hers before pressing more firmly against them. He keeps the kiss short, not wanting to overstep or disrespect the fact that she's living with someone.

"Bye Liv," he says, after pulling back.

"Bye El," she tells him.

He pulls the door open, gives her one last glance and closes it behind himself. Olivia places her hand on the cold steel once he's gone, pressing her palm against the metal. She doesn't trust herself not to open it and call after him. For as bad as he hurt her and as angry as she's been, having Elliot in her life has never been a regret. Her last thought as she walks towards her bedroom is how it would've been better _not_ to know what his lips felt like.


	3. Post Trial

**AN: Anything you see in bold is directly from the script and belongs to their respective writers. Without further ado, the story continues.**

Olivia is just…full.

So overwhelmed with emotion is she, that her heart is breaking and she feels like imploding from trying to contain it all.

Her head is what hurts the most.

It always does when she tries to hold back tears. There's all this pressure and nowhere for it to go because she refused, outright refused to release them in front of _anyone_.

It's as if the people that care don't know what to expect from her anymore and it's understandable because neither does she.

"**Let's get you home," Brian states and pauses to wait. When he sees her hesitation then, "Liv, are you comin'?"**

"**Yes. Can you just give me a minute?"**

He agreed. He always just agrees these days to whatever she wants. And whatever she asks of him, he says yes.

He never argues just says, "Okay, Liv. Okay."

If she doesn't want to talk, it's okay.

If she just wants a hug, it's okay.

If she wants to spend her days off on the sofa, it's okay.

That's what she'd said when he asked her to get an apartment together.

"Okay."

Their relationship is okay.

Her job is okay.

She…is…okay!

But she's not. She's not and it's all coming back, came back.

This week, this day, on the stand with his spittle nearly hitting her in the face, everything's back. The darkness of her apartment that should've been the first freakin' alarm in her head, is back. After twenty years with a badge, a gun she never reached for…it's all come back.

She froze? She froze!

It's the overwhelming ache in her chest that has her nearly running out of the courtroom. She can't breathe.

She just…has to…slow down.

Has to…stop.

Olivia pushes through the cheap, brown, latex painted door, immediately greeted with a gust of cold, seemingly inherent of all government building stairways.

But breathing is possible again. Inhale. Exhale.

Just. Hold on.

She descends the steps with the full intent of simply avoiding the crowd that's waiting for an elevator.

But when she reaches the bottom landing, she stops and falls. Not physically but mentally.

She drops to sit on the bottom step, finally resting on the attempt to run away from herself.

It didn't work anyway. It never has.

Cold, dingy white walls, much like that of a prison, are the backdrop for the utter and complete self-destruction she has going on in her head and heart.

Olivia's never been closer to understanding her mother's romance with a bottle as she is now.

Everything's right at the surface.

The unforgiving duct tape that bound her arms and legs is there, its harsh adhesive pulling at the skin of her lips. The acrid smell of her own burning flesh as he seared Olivia with keys and a coat hanger before using her for an ashtray. The excruciating pain of the fists to her ribs, the backhand to her face. It all came back. She was completely alone with him at his mercy.

And so she lied.

No matter how he yelled, how he goaded, how he was allowed to treat _her_ as a damn hostile witness, she did…not…waver.

But she lied.

Her body shakes with the force of her sobs. A tear for every untruth she's told and how often she's told it is streaming down her face in a torrent of anguish.

She compromised herself.

Her right hand grasps the railing as the emotional turmoil from betraying everything she believes in, balls her up from the inside out. The left hand resting on her stomach provides no relief.

She hears the door above her push open with such force that the gust of a wind it creates lifts the hair from her shoulders. Olivia slides on the frigid concrete step closer to the railing. She wants to let whoever's in such a hurry pass, so that she can continue with her decimation in peace.

As quickly as the person wanted to get to where they were going, their footfalls slow as they near her.

"Are you okay ma'am?"

He's the last person she expects.

"Elliot."

"Olivia?"

She tries in vain to swipe the moisture from her cheeks. But with pink irritated eyes and ruined mascara, there's no way he wouldn't notice.

He's wearing a gray suit and burgundy striped tie with his black overcoat. Perhaps the D.A.'s office has him researching one of their cold cases.

"What," she tries. "What are you doing here?" She asks, continuing to wipe her face.

"That's not important," he responds. "And I'm not gonna bother asking if you're okay because obviously you're not."

She quickly pulls up from the railing, nearly colliding with him and feels immediately dizzy. Between how hard she was crying and getting up too fast, Elliot has to stop her from nearly toppling over.

"Liv please," he begins. "I've never seen you like this."

"It's fine," she says, pulling out of his grasp. "I'm fine," she repeats unconvincingly.

"Hey," he starts again. "I know you'd rather it was anyone else," he begins. "But it's me okay and I just wanna help you."

Elliot had gotten a clue when she never bothered calling him. He'd gone about his life as if they hadn't reconciled, as if he hadn't kissed her. Something he thought if she ever allowed or he ever had the balls to attempt, he'd at least get to do more than once. Instead, he had to force himself to forget that his lips ever touched hers.

She's with Brian Cassidy now. Brian freakin' Cassidy and there's not a damn thing he can do about it.

_He_ left _her_, so any reservation she has about him is his fault. If she would rather feign a life of normalcy with a fifteen year old one night stand because she lost part of herself to that freak William Lewis, he'll just have to deal.

He had such a high volume of crap to sort out after he shot and killed Jenna that he couldn't be bothered to check in on her. He couldn't simply see if she was okay. Elliot couldn't be hassled to return a call, send up a smoke signal or strap a note to the foot of a carrier pigeon, anything to let her know she still mattered to him.

The fact that she'd even given him more than the ten minutes he'd asked for is still a mystery to him. But he thinks maybe she'd done it for nostalgia's sake. Or maybe, out of sheer curiosity as to what his explanation for cutting her out of his life was.

In his mind sending her his mini badge was a peace offering, the extending of an olive branch. But in reality it was a piss poor _'I'm sorry for ignoring you after twelve years of partnership'_.

Olivia has a life now that doesn't include him. He is no longer her constant. He is what _was _not what is.

The longest relationship she's ever had with a man ended three years ago with his abrupt departure. Now he understands how it feels to be sought out only when it suits another person, to be someone's afterthought instead of their first thought.

Elliot sabotaged any of her potential relationships at every turn. He retarded her forward progress. He made her feel like all she had, had been him, that all she needed was him when he so selfishly had someone to go home to every night.

Though it may not have been his intention, it happened none the less.

It was through him she learned that showing vulnerability was a weakness. The phrase "I'm fine", probably wasn't even in her vocabulary until the day he told her that there was no crying in baseball.

How wrong he was.

Twelve years and he'd only seen her shed tears once because while the NYPD said he had to have her back, her heart wasn't included in the regulations. And even if they were just friends, Olivia called him her _best_ friend.

You're supposed to take care of your best friend's heart. But instead of doing that, he shattered it into a million tiny pieces. What he should've also confessed that day after he ran into her, was that keeping her at a distance was just as painful for him as it was for her.

And while he understands her desire to keep him at a distance, she needs _someone_ right now even if it's him.

Olivia abandons her coat on the banister before taking two steps away from him, placing her back against the wall of the small landing. She doesn't know if she wants to let anyone in, _especially_ Elliot.

She hasn't seen him since he ran into her at the market several weeks ago. And between dealing with Nick shooting a fourteen year-old boy, the fallout from that and running the unit after Cragen's departure, she hasn't made time to call him. Then again, she lives with Brian and _they _barely communicate.

These days Olivia hardly sees him.

Perhaps he's grown tired of her not wanting to share what's in her head. But Cassidy couldn't handle the victims and their stories during his short stint in SVU so she doesn't think he'd understand now that _she's_ one of them. Not that he acknowledges that.

"I don't," she attempts. "I don't want you here," she manages before the tears begin again.

One hand is at her middle and the covers her mouth with the other trying to contain the sound of her sobs. She can't stand the fact that while he wasn't there for all the important stuff that he gets to watch her break down.

"I know," he tells her, stepping closer. "But I am Liv, I'm here and I'm not leaving you like this."

Elliot can't bear to watch her crumbling before him. He gently pulls her away from the wall, wordlessly wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She hesitates initially but brings both arms around his back, resting the smooth skin of her face against the beginning stubble of his.

Olivia carries the weight of the day on her back and somehow manages to resist the temptation of resting fully against him, trusting that he'll still prop her up.

His hold, his scent, the sound of his breathing near her ear, is absolute comfort and familiarity. God help her, she wishes she didn't have to let him go so she takes another minute but eventually pulls back.

Elliot rests his hands on her shoulders.

"Let me take you home Liv," he offers. "My car's in the parking garage."

"Not home," she says immediately, knowing Cassidy's waiting. "Not yet."

Brian can't handle the mental state she's in right now. He'll want her to talk, to tell him what's wrong. He's uncomfortable with silences, has to fill the spaces with words. He'll feel the need to do something, say _something_ and she can't deal with it.

Elliot was always the polar opposite. He seemed to understand when to let her just breathe. And a moment to do just that is exactly what she needs right now.

He looks back and forth between her eyes, making sure he's reading her as he used to. Hoping that he is, he takes her sleeve and tugs on it, indicating that she follow him. And just as she has a million times before, she doesn't hesitate.

They navigate the streets of downtown Manhattan before taking the bridge over to Brooklyn.

The concrete jungle of high rises, skyscrapers and people that can't get to where they're going fast enough, slowly fades into tree lined streets, family owned markets, beautifully green parks and classic brownstones.

The inhabitants of Park Slope are taking advantage of the last minutes of daylight they have left on this late winter day.

A group of teenagers is playing flag football in grass stained covered sweats, thick hoodies under jerseys and fingerless gloves. Toddlers being closely monitored by their parents play on large, colorful jungle gyms in the shape of various zoo animals. A couple that looks to be in their seventies walks their golden retriever. They've probably been married for as long as Olivia's been alive.

She could cry again for the simplicity of it all.

Elliot parks parallel in front of one of the historic looking homes. It has a wide staircase leading up to a mocha colored exterior trimmed in dark stained oak.

There's a large three paned picture window with the drapes drawn. She can only imagine the warmth and light it must allow when opened to the sun's influence.

"Where are we?" She asks, eying the new and unfamiliar surroundings.

"Come on," he says, giving her a small grin. "I'll show you."

They get out and she follows him up the stairs to the tall double glass doors. They walk into a small foyer that ends in a polished oak staircase leading to a second level. To their right is a living room where the big window is located.

The walls are painted a rich gold color, the floors are hardwood and the drapes are a deep burgundy. There's a rustic looking brown leather sofa, accent chairs compliment the contrasting pillows and a steamer trunk coffee table sits across from the brick fireplace.

Olivia immediately feels at home. Above the fireplace is a large mirror. She already knows she has puffy eyes and ruined mascara, so she actively avoids looking at her reflection when she walks over to the picture frame cluttered mantle.

Elliot and his siblings are depicted in various stages, from children to adolescents to adults. She picks up the one of him dressed as a carrot. A smile graces her face just as it had the first time she'd seen it.

"You grew up here."

"I did," he nods, leaning casually against the entryway.

She continues along the mantle looking at his parents and siblings in various candid shots, holiday portraits, pageants and other special events.

"Can I take your coat?" Elliot asks after removing his own.

She hands it to him and he disappears back into the hallway to hang them in a nearby closet.

He's gone a few minutes longer than it should've taken and before she can start to wonder where he is, he reappears sans coat, suit jacket and tie with glass tumblers in each hand. They contain two fingers of an amber liquid.

"I figured you could use something stronger than wine," he explains. "And I could use something stronger than beer."

She hesitates only momentarily before reaching out to accept one of the glasses.

"Thanks," she says, taking a sip. "Jameson?"

"Yeah."

Olivia watches as he walks to the large windows to open the drapes. They're just in time to see the sun setting over the park.

"I love this time of day," Elliot comments.

She joins him. They stand shoulder to shoulder watching the football players waving goodbye to each other and the parents gathering their little ones to take home for dinner.

As she stuffs her left hand in her front pocket she brushes her arm against his. Neither of them bothers to move. Simultaneously she feels his body heat and the minimal warmth of the winter sun on her face.

She closes her eyes and just…breathes.

Olivia's so focused on the tranquil scene beyond the window that she doesn't notice when Elliot walks away. He starts a comfortable blaze in the fireplace and when she looks up he's bent over an old record player she hadn't noticed before.

The smooth sound of a horn fills the silence, complimented by a piano. As a professor, Serena exposed her to most liberal arts, literature and music especially.

She knows Coltrane when she hears it.

The classic jazz doesn't blare intrusively from the speakers. It simply floats out into the room like a cloud of smoke.

Elliot doesn't say anything. He merely walks to the sofa, removes his shoes and sits in front of the fire before taking a sip from his glass. She can almost see the tension flowing right out of him. It seems to be his routine and he's allowed her to share it today, possibly hoping it will give her the same peace.

It's a silent invitation.

She removes her cell phone to shoot Brian a quick text message. _Just clearing my head…will be home in a couple of hours. _Olivia doesn't want him worrying and she needs this, a break from her life.

When she's finished, her gaze returns to Elliot. She's just in time to catch him staring as if she's some type of mirage. She knows the feeling. Olivia had it when she saw him that day in the bodega. He gives her a small smile before returning his gaze to the fire.

She doesn't smile back. Instead she wonders why things are so easy with him, why she feels so relaxed by him when it's only the second time they've seen each other in a matter of years, especially when that first time was anything but smooth. There is something that has taken root rather quickly and Olivia's trying to ignore it, been ignoring since he kissed her goodbye.

But here she is.

Taking a seat in one of the accent chairs is an option but she thinks better of it and instead decides to join him. She sits in one corner of the worn leather sofa, leaving about a foot of space to separate them.

It's not enough. It's too much.

One hand is on her right thigh, the other is holding her drink. She lets her head fall against the back of the couch, closing her eyes.

"I committed perjury today," she says in a hushed tone. "For the last six months I've done _everything _I've told victims not to do."

This garners his immediate attention. It doesn't sound like the Olivia Benson he knew. Then again, so much has changed. They're both different people.

"I've blamed myself, second guessed my actions," she clarifies. "Then I did the biggest thing I told them _never_ to do Elliot," she says pausing. "I lied."

She's swiping at another tear that's managed to escape and he refrains from reaching for her again. He knows that she didn't come back with him to be placated. He is hearing her confession just as if he was a priest. As such, Olivia knows she doesn't have to worry about him telling anyone else.

They've always kept each other's secrets.

"I lied to the ADA, the judge, the jury," she admits. "And that freak looked at me like he'd succeeded at turning me into someone like _him_."

"Never gonna happen," he says, adamantly.

"You…you don't know that Elliot," she responds, moving off the sofa to walk towards the fireplace. "He had me for four days. He tortured me mentally and physically," she adds, sparing him the details. "He wanted to humiliate me further by pleading guilty to multiple counts of rape and sodomy which he did _not _do," she insists. "As an attempt at a final, _'screw you'_".

"You're not him," he tells her, shaking his head. "No matter what you did, you are not some raping, murdering, torturous son of a bitch."

She puts her glass on the mantle before resting both her palms there, continuing with her back to him.

"I beat him with a metal bar until he was bruised, bloodied and broken Elliot," she reminds him. "He's nearly blind in one eye, partially deaf in one ear, had to learn to walk again and a host of other injuries," she informs him. "I am no better than he is."

Elliot gets off the couch and goes to her. Seeing his reflection in the mirror, she attempts to look away. He lays a hand on her left cheek momentarily, returning her eyes to his.

"What about all of _your_ injuries Olivia?" He asks, as she turns fully towards him. "You said yourself you were tortured," he begins. "No one could've taken that and come out the same," he tells her. "Or even alive for that matter," he adds. "He was gonna to kill you."

He takes a step closer to her.

"Listen to me," he begins. "When you're fighting for your life, no force is too excessive," he reasons. "You did what you had to do."

Olivia knows this in her head but her heart doesn't want to go along with the program.

"Short of him being put in a body bag, no matter how it happened, he deserves all he has coming to him and then some," he asserts, placing his hand on the nape of her neck. "Tell me you know that?"

Olivia remembers him touching her there years ago, _'Family is everything'_, he'd told her after she'd confessed that she'd always been alone. She hated feeling like she was whining. She'd thought for a while after that, that if they hadn't been interrupted by a radio call, he would've said something of more substance like, _'You_ _have me'_ or _'You're my family too'_.

"I know," she answers. "I do Elliot. It's just gonna take some time," she tells him. "And as much as I know he deserves it, I still hate that I compromised myself to put him there," she confesses. "I'm just…I'm tired."

Today of all days, she feels all her years, her job, her life.

"Are you ready to quit?" Elliot asks, sincerely.

"No," she contends. "Hell no."

"He deserves to spend the rest of his miserable life in prison no matter the circumstances," he contends. "And no one will tell you any different."

He refuses to let her wallow in guilt. Elliot knows her morals are eating her alive about how Lewis ended up in prison. But he won't let her beat herself up when the prick deserves to burn in hell.

"I look in the mirror sometimes and I don't recognize who I've become," she admits.

He responds a breath later without hesitation.

"It's the hair," he says, garnering an instant smirk from her. "I almost didn't recognize you either."

She shakes her head before taking her drink and returning to the sofa. The music is still going and she has to admit that the voice in her head has quieted. Olivia's only spent an hour in his company and she's calmer, feels better.

"I'm being serious," she tries again.

He sits down on the couch next to her.

"I know, I just wanted to see you smile," he admits.

She blushes mildly

at his words, unable to meet his eyes because she's not used to him talking so sweetly, not to her anyway.

"You're the most resilient person I've ever met Liv," he continues. "And you're a great cop so don't doubt yourself."

Olivia sips the last of her Jameson and places the glass on the coffee table. She sits back against the sofa, shutting her eyes momentarily.

"Can you just follow me around and repeat everything you've said to me in the last five minutes?" She asks.

"It'd only take you that long to get tired of hearing the sound of my voice," he teases.

"I've missed hearing the sound of your voice," she admits without her normal filter.

They're sitting shoulder to shoulder when he turns and smiles at her. Elliot threads his right hand through her short tresses. And though it's something he's never done, she doesn't bother to protest.

"You really did this huh?"

"After he…I just…I needed a change," she responds, shrugging her shoulders.

"Well change looks good on you," Elliot says, releasing her hair.

Olivia can see the reflection of the dancing flames in his blue eyes, the change in his facial expression and he looks as if his day was just as long. He faces forward again, mimicking her position letting his head fall back against the sofa.

"This is where I live now," he begins. "My mom never sold it, just rented it out while she stays at her place on the beach."

It's her turn to listen and she doesn't mind. She really _has_ missed his voice, mostly because she didn't think she'd be hearing again.

"Said I was gonna get it in her will anyway so it was here if I needed it," he informs her. "I moved in after the legal separation started again," he tells her. "That's why I was at the courthouse today," he reveals. "We finalized the divorce and custody arrangements for Eli."

They sit in silence for a few moments, both seemingly giving the information time to sink in.

"That's why you were in such a hurry to leave," she recalls.

"Yeah," he answers. "I knew that Kathy and I couldn't work things out," he begins. "But it doesn't stop me from feeling like a failure."

"You guys made it past your silver anniversary Elliot," she offers. "That's not failure." 

"Thanks," he says. "But I think between the two of us, the bad day award definitely goes to you," he responds. "And I'm sorry."

"For what?" She asks.

"Because despite Lewis and the fact that you've done just fine without me," he begins. "I can't help feeling like I left you to deal with everything alone," he admits. "So I don't blame you for returning the favor of not calling me."

Olivia mimics his position, turning towards the crackling blaze. Of course she knew he'd notice but it wasn't wholly intentional.

"That's only part of the reason I haven't," she admits.

"And the other part?"

"I honestly don't know where you'd fit into my life," she admits, turning to face him again. "I'm different now and yes some of it is because of what I went through over those four days…but the rest has to do with how you left," she continues, searching for the right words. "And all the adjustments I've had to make since."

She takes a couple of moments before starting again and he waits patiently for her to explain.

"I had to learn how to do my job in a new way," she goes on. "I figured out that vulnerability is okay with the right person," she adds, alluding to the fact that _he_ wasn't that person.

Hurting Elliot isn't her aim but this complete honesty thing they've begun with one another is like some type of cathartic switch. She can't turn it off now and doesn't want to try.

"I've also had to learn how to trust again and that my unwillingness to do things another way was retarding my growth," she explains. "And your absence…

"Made it easier to figure all those things out," he finishes for her.

"Yes and no," she tells him. "On one hand, yes, your retiring was the reason I was forced to discover some things about myself," she acknowledges. "But on the other hand, if you hadn't left, I may have never learned those lessons," she adds. "I didn't realize that I had become so complacent with my life until your abrupt exit sort of…threw me off kilter," she says. "So I guess I owe you a bit of a thanks too."

Olivia watches him take in everything she's told him and process it. He looks distressed by all that she's revealed, like another apology is on the tip of his tongue.

"You don't owe me anything," he begins. "Least of all gratitude," he affirms. "I've only always wanted the best for you Liv and if that wasn't clear or I didn't make it easy for you to find happiness, then I'm sorry."

She knows this. But Olivia has never been stupid or naive. He may have wanted her to be happy but he also wanted her comfortably and complacently by his side.

"Let me ask you something," she says and Elliot instantly nods. "What was it about Dean Porter that you hated so much?" She asks. "The fact that he was a fed or that he was interested in _me_?"

Olivia's never had the courage or the desire to poke that particular hornet's nest with a stick, but she's always known it to be true. While they were partners, and he still married, it's simply something she would've avoided to keep the status quo.

Now, she has nothing to lose, nothing to risk. They have no relationship of any kind at this instant, good or bad. She finds it mildly amusing in watching him bother his lip for a moment, looking as if he's contemplating his answer.

"And before you respond," she warns. "Think about Claudia, Andy, Dana and all the other times we'd worked with feds over the years."

He looks down and away from her before meeting her eyes again.

"I didn't trust him Olivia," he admits. "So no, I didn't like that he was interested in you," he says honestly.

She can't hold his gaze. Elliot wants to say more but he's unsure of where they stand so he won't. Perhaps one day he'll be bold enough to tell her the rest of why he didn't like any of her romantic involvements.

He only hopes there is a _"one day"_ for them.

"We've both changed," he begins. "And you won't get any argument from me about how leaving without explanation was screwed up so I won't bother asking your forgiveness," he continues. "But it stings to hear that you don't know where I'd fit in your life anymore."

Olivia considers this as she focuses on the flames in the fireplace, trying to put her thoughts into words.

"You offered your honesty to me when we ran into one another a few weeks ago," she tells him after a few minutes. "So I'll do the same for you now," she continues, turning to him again.

Elliot's almost scared to hear what she has to say.

"You've known me the longest," she begins. "You know about all of my demons and most of my skeletons," she acknowledges. "So…you've also always had the power to hurt me the worse."

"And that's exactly what I did," he realizes, leaning forward to place his face in his hands.

She would try to comfort him if not for the fact that he's caused her more than one night of tears.

"I don't know how soon I'll be able to say I forgive you Elliot," she says earnestly. "But I am less angry about things than I used to be."

He looks over his shoulder at her, taking in her weary eyes, recognizing he's not the first, last or only person to hurt her.

"Is there anything I can do?" He asks for the second time since running into her.

Olivia offers him a glimmer of hope in a small smile.

"Get me another drink?"

"I'll be right back," he says, getting up and disappearing again.

Her phone vibrates in her back pocket alerting her to the fact that she has a text message. When she pulls it out to check it, she sees it's from Brian.

_Got called in. Chinese is in the fridge with both kinds of rice. Hope that's okay. It may be a late one, so don't wait up. ~ B._

'_Okay'_. There's that word again and she's starting to hate it.

Elliot returns to the room with the bottle just as Olivia's putting the phone back into her pocket.

"Is everything alright?" He asks.

"Yeah fine," she tells him. "Let me ask you another question El?"

"Shoot."

"What's my usual order from General Tao's?"

He cocks his head to the side, squints his eyes in question but doesn't hesitate to answer.

"Szechuan chicken with white rice, steamed veggies on the side why?"

She exhales and shakes her head at the fact that Brian can't seem to figure that out when Elliot had taken notice barely a month into their partnership.

"No reason," she tells him. "Start pouring."

**Despite the fact that my life is about to get incredibly hectic again, don't worry, I won't be abandoning this story. The response to it has been a positive one. I try to respond to all reviews but FF doesn't allow me to respond to "guest" reviews because there's no account to send them to. But please don't let that deter you. I love knowing what you think and getting input whether you love it or hate it. **

**So do what you do and please review!**


	4. Into The Night

**AN: As always I thank everyone who's not only following myself or this story, but actually take time out to let me know what they think of my writing. I sincerely appreciate it because reviews are like gold to a person honing their skills. So without further ado, here's the next installment. Rated T for content and language.**

Several hours later, Olivia's still there.

The music has long since stopped playing and Elliot hasn't bothered to get up and change it nor has she protested the silence. They're sitting comfortably on his sofa in front of the cozy fire he's built.

Neither of them bothered to put any food into their stomachs with the Jameson so they're both leaning towards intoxication.

The two former partners are too buzzed to drive but not so wasted that they couldn't pass a field sobriety test. It's more of a comfortable inner warmth they've got going on.

When he chances a look in her direction, her head is lulled against the back of the sofa with her eyes closed. There's a small part of him that's pleased to know she's content enough to have taken her shoes off. Olivia sits with her hands on either side of her, chest rising and falling evenly, possibly asleep.

Elliot's position mirrors hers, legs crossed at the ankles, feet resting on the coffee table before them. Watching her while she isn't looking is a habit he'd developed when they were partners. In his current state, he's happily picked it back up.

"Are you sleeping?" He asks.

She gets a slight smirk on her face, without bothering to open her eyes.

"If I was, I'm not anymore."

"Sorry," he says.

"It's okay," she tells him, opening her eyes and turning her head in his direction. "What did you want?"

"I was just gonna say…it's really late," he tries. "So if you wanted to stay-

"Okay," she says, cutting him off. "I don't really relish the thought of bundling up again to go back out into the cold," she reasons. "Besides…you're in no condition to drive me home and I wouldn't trust a taxi driver in my current state."

The fact that she can string together sentences that make sense is very impressive she thinks. Olivia is experienced enough to know what her alcohol limits are, with and without food.

She passed those about two glasses ago.

"Can't disagree with you there," Elliot tells her.

It seems being Irish, male and having at least twenty pounds of brawn has no bearing on his tolerance for booze. She could always handle her liquor better. Tonight is no different.

"I'm gonna go upstairs and get things ready," he says, before making an attempt to get up.

He rocks forward only to plop back down again. When he makes it on the second try, he hears Olivia trying to stifle a laugh but its audible none the less.

"We'll see how well _you_ do when it's time to stand up," he says before disappearing through the entryway of the living room.

While he's gone, she wonders what exactly it is Elliot's "getting ready" for her. There's obviously more than one bedroom upstairs. How much work could pulling back some blankets be?

Ten minutes later he returns.

"You ready?" He asks.

Olivia looks at him as if it's the most ridiculous question she's ever heard. That is, until she makes an attempt to actually get up.

"I'm not gonna say I told you so," he tells her, offering his hand.

"I'm pretty sure you just did," she says, slapping it away as she pushes off the sofa cushions without his help.

Elliot shakes his head. She's the same stubborn Olivia.

She follows him up the stairs, both taking it slow and holding on to the railing the entire way. Once they make it, he leads her into his bedroom. It's carpeted in a dove gray, the walls are painted a smoke color and are decorated with various black and white candids of his children at different ages.

The room has the subtle smell of his cologne too. The same familiar scent that gave her pause in the bodega, embraces her now. It also has a large window with a seat, a king sized bed with cream tufted headboard and an LED television over a fireplace.

Elliot's started a blaze nearly kin to the one they had downstairs and its well on its way to creating the same amount of warmth. He's taken the liberty of pulling down the white duvet and laying out one of his larger pajama shirts and a set of boxer shorts.

"Thanks," she says, once she's seen all that he's done to make sure she's comfortable for the night.

"Anytime," he says. "The bathroom's in there," he tells her, gesturing behind him. "Goodnight Liv."

"Night El," she responds.

Elliot returns to the lower level and begins extinguishing any lamps still glowing, puts out the fire and checks the locks on all the windows and doors. She'd expressed to him earlier that she still doesn't know how the hell William Lewis got into her apartment. So tonight nothing and no one is getting to Olivia on his watch.

He's passing by his bedroom to head into one of the kids' when she stops him.

"Are you going straight to sleep?" She asks from beneath the covers as he pauses in the doorway.

She's turned towards him, head lazily propped up by her hand.

"I don't have to," he curiously responds. "Why?"

The truth is, Olivia's enjoying his presence. When she and Brian moved in together she was sort of nervous because she hadn't had a roommate since college. But then again, she was more anxious about living alone. She had gotten used to him being there when she went to sleep and awoke the next morning. His being moved to IAB interrupted that routine, a much needed sense of safety because of her ordeal with William Lewis.

Yet the more time they've spent apart, the more she's steeled herself to dealing with the solitude of her apartment. And the longer she does that, the faster she's returning to being the independent woman she was before that psychopath entered her life.

"I just thought maybe…we could keep talking," she answers.

Elliot doesn't hesitate. He walks into the room, closing the door behind himself to keep in the heat, and begins looking for somewhere to sit other than the obvious choice. Unfortunately he's been too busy making sure the kids had what they needed in their bedrooms to bother putting much more than a bed, dresser and television in his.

Olivia sees his reluctance and slides over, letting him know that she trusts him, at least in this regard.

"There's more than enough room," she tells him.

Minutes later they're laying at least a foot apart, Elliot on top of the covers, Olivia underneath, both staring up at the ceiling. His arms are folded beneath his head, her hands are clasped together, resting on her stomach. The curtains are drawn against the moonlight and the blaze continues in the fireplace casting shadows on the walls in the otherwise dark room. Now and again, the crackle of the fire can be heard at their feet.

"Everything you said about not keeping in contact," she begins, breaking the long silence. "Were they the only reasons?"

It's something she's been wondering about since last she saw him. Olivia just didn't think she'd get a chance to ask. She doesn't know if she'd _ever_ have used the number he's given her.

She hears him take a breath, obviously not prepared for her to have asked such a heavy question. Elliot's been uncharacteristically patient with her tonight, answering her questions and limiting his own curiosities. It's made her increasingly bold in her asking.

"No," he says. "It's also because…I didn't know what our friendship would look like outside of work," he admits. "I mean, would we go to Jets games together like you're one of the guys or sit at the dinner table so you could politely ignore the tension between me and Kathy?"

"This is New York City Elliot, there are a million things we could have done," she asserts, turning to face him, propped up on her elbow.

He moves an arm from under his head, scrubbing a hand down his face. Olivia doesn't seem to get his point.

"There's nothing we could've done together that wouldn't have made me feel guilty for spending time with you," he confesses.

"Guilty?" She asks incredulously. "Why would you feel guilty?"

Elliot can't believe they're having this conversation, let alone having it in his bed. He brings his forearm across his eyes, a subtle attempt at not having to meet hers.

"Because the further I got from working things out with Kathy," he begins. "The more I wanted to spend time with you," he reveals. "And that was just…_wrong_."

When he drops his arm and chances a glance in her direction, her expression worries him. Olivia looks as if she's either going to cry or punch him again. He watches with sadness as she simply rolls away from him.

Elliot would have rather been hit.

"So I _was_ the cause of your marriage breaking up," she rasps over her shoulder.

"No," he contends. "But you and I…we had a closeness that without the job or my marriage as boundaries," he tries. "At least on my end…I would've wanted…_more_."

Olivia knows she planted the seed for this conversation when she asked him why he had such trouble with Dean Porter showing interest in her. With the way he'd cautiously answered, she wasn't expecting him to bring it up again. Maybe the Jameson has given him the courage to resume the conversation, to respond as he'd wanted to the first time.

"More what Elliot?" She asks curiously, turning towards him again and sitting up altogether.

He's been in therapy for over a year talking his guts out and learning how to be a better communicator. But when it comes to Olivia, he can never seem to say the right thing.

Elliot turns towards her, mimicking her position. He looks over at her waiting expression and tries to explain what he feels.

"More this," he begins, gesturing between them. "More talking about something other than cases…more being with you without anything getting in the way…more-

"Stop," she interrupts, shaking her head. "Just…stop," she repeats, throwing the covers off and getting out the bed.

This conversation is having a seriously sobering effect on her because if he wanted so damn much _more_, then where the hell has he been?

"We were partners, we were friends," she tells him, making him sour his face at her use of the past tense. "And you're the one that made the decision to severe that connection three years ago without any input from me," she reminds him. "So there is no _more_, Elliot."

He threads his eyebrows together, biting his bottom lip.

"You're saying that there's absolutely _nothing_ between us?" He asks, disbelievingly as he too climbs out of bed. "When you heard my voice that day in the bodega, when you saw my face, when I kissed you goodbye that night, you didn't feel _anything_?" He continues, moving closer.

She doesn't like lying to him but what she will do is avoid a question she doesn't want to answer at all costs, though she knows he'll recognize the evasive tactic the minute it leaves her lips.

"I've moved on," she contends. "I have a new partner, new friends, new job responsibilities," she continues. "And I know it sucks but there's no room for-

Olivia doesn't get to finish her sentence because without thinking, he takes her face in both hands and brings his mouth to hers. Elliot can't blame her for not welcoming him back with open arms. But to say they have no connection?

That's just ludicrous.

Aside from how pissed she was, it was there from the moment they saw one another at that bodega a few weeks ago and it remains. So when he gets the overwhelming urge to kiss the lie off her lips, he decides to go with it.

Her palm rests passively against his chest as he continues tenderly nipping at her lips before parting them to deepen the kiss. She doesn't stop him. If anything, she settles comfortably into it with a soft sigh.

Olivia tastes the Jameson on him. He tickles the roof of her mouth, sliding his tongue next to hers before suckling her bottom lip. The booze and fire are no longer the only things keeping her warm. That small action by itself is enough to make her moan and it ignites a passion in her that she can admit hasn't been present with Brian for a while.

Without thinking, Elliot begins walking her backwards, edging closer to the bed.

Before she can stop herself, she's kissing him back just as hungrily while falling against the mattress. One hand is at his nape, the other on his broad chest. Elliot moves from her lips to her neck then up to her ear, giving it a playful bite before soothing it with the heat of his mouth.

"I've missed you so damn much," he rasps next to her lips.

She simply nods as his hands move to the buttons of the pajama shirt he's given her to wear, opening them one at a time, kissing the exposed flesh as he goes along.

"You're beautiful," he whispers against her skin.

Olivia doesn't respond, just takes hold of his jaw and brings his lips to hers again. For her part she helps him out of his own shirt and with hers open, gets skin to skin with Elliot as he climbs over her.

She slowly runs her fingers from his chest to his back, mapping his body along the way. He is a constant contradiction, appearing to be cold with hard edges on the outside, while his skin is all heat and softness under her palms.

Though she doesn't usually make comparisons, lately Brian has treated her like she's as fragile as a china doll. But Elliot is touching her like she's a woman, one that he very much wants. His mouth seeks her as if she's his favorite flavor and his hands are greedy for her flesh.

Olivia wants him all the more for it.

His palms smooth up the outsides of her thighs, widening them so that he can fit in between. And when he returns his attention to her lips she feels like she's being devoured in the most sensuous way. He covers her body with his and Olivia can feel him against her, excitedly so.

He's dragging insistent lips down her neck again and towards her lace clad breasts when logic and sobriety take over.

Elliot, her ex-partner, the man who hurt her worse than she thought possible, is on top of her, hard and touching her intimately. _'What am I doing?' _she thinks.

As good as it feels to have his lips on hers, his hands on her body, she knows it isn't right. So as difficult as it is, Olivia stops him, sitting up and placing both palms against his chest.

She'll reason with herself later, that being under the influence is why she didn't end things with him sooner. The intimate atmosphere of a fire lit bedroom didn't help either.

Delayed or not, at least she did it before things went too far.

Another few minutes and they no doubt would've stripped away one another's clothes completely. And the kicker is, she may have felt guilty for having cheated on Brian, but she doesn't think she would have regretted doing so.

'_What the hell is wrong with me?'_ she says to herself.

They're eyes are still closed as he pulls back to rest his forehead against hers. Her hands are still resting against his bare chest and she can feel his heart beating beneath the flesh of her palms.

Olivia's only seen him twice now in three years and can't understand why it was so easy to touch him, to cross that line when they'd spent twelve years actively avoiding it. She's never felt so conflicted about what she has and what she wants.

"We have something-

"Don't," she rasps and when he leans away, Elliot can see how tightly she's holding her eyelids shut.

"Liv?"

"Don't," she repeats as tears begin to fall as she moves to sit up.

When she finally opens her eyes, he sees something he wishes he hasn't. The flames dance in her irises reflecting what he thinks is fear. He's never been the source of it. Not for Olivia.

"God Liv," he begins. "I didn't mean to scare you…or…or trigger a flashback or anything," he stumbles, trying to apologize as he moves to the other side of the bed.

"That…that's not what this is Elliot," she explains, moving backwards against the headboard, bringing her knees to her chest as she begins to rebutton the pajama shirt. Olivia combs frustrated hands through her short tresses, shaking her head at the missteps between them.

She can't blame him for being confused. She didn't exactly push him off of her and as she looks at him bare-chested, remembers helping him out of his shirt. Olivia has to look away again, feeling the heat of latent desire flush her face.

"What then?" He asks, almost timidly.

"Elliot I got over the fact that you left," she asserts. "I got over _you_ and for the first time in a long while, I have a sense of stability in my life," she explains. "It's the reason I'm holding on to my sanity and I can't…with you…I just can't allow you to be the reason that I lose it," she says, eying him with a plea to understand.

He hurt her deeply but she got through it. Olivia's with Brian now and has been for over a year. She's supervising SVU and she doesn't want Elliot coming in and ruining the normalcy she's found. What she just put a stop to, an essential make-out session with him, scared her to death not because it triggered her PTSD, but because of how much she wanted to continue touching him and enjoying having his hands on her.

But she won't cheat on Cassidy. She's not going to destroy that constant, knowing she doesn't trust Elliot not to hurt her again.

"I don't wanna disrupt your life," he contends. "But we were just all over each other Liv," he reminds her. "Are you still tryin' to tell me that you don't feel anything for me, that there's nothing more between us?"

She shakes her head, averting her eyes. He can tell she's conflicted, that she's warring with herself because of all that's happened between them. Elliot crawls towards her and placing a gentle hand to her chin, prompts her focus to return to his blues.

"We've always had chemistry," she reasons. "I won't deny that," she admits. "But you wanted me out of your life and I've moved on with mine," she repeats, gingerly taking his hand down and away from her face.

The warm, intimate, relaxed atmosphere of his bedroom made her temporarily forget those nights she'd cried because of him. She sobers even more thinking of all those unanswered messages and it cements the decision she's made to keep him at arm's length.

"I _never _wanted you out of my life," Elliot protests. "But it took so long for me to get my shit together that I didn't think you'd want me in _yours_."

Olivia responds with a humorless laugh and a shake of her head.

"So you're blaming me for our distance?" She asks.

"No, Liv I-

"Look Elliot," she interrupts. "That's just another decision affecting_ both_ of us that you made on your own," she continues. "The same way you did when you handed in your papers," she adds, her anger starting to build again. "And now you have to live with it."

When he left and cut all ties, she mourned the loss of him almost as if he'd been dead and buried. The only difference was there was no funeral, no twenty-one gun salute and no wearing of black bands. Flags around the city weren't lowered to half mast. But she'd gone through the stages of grief, crying, sleepless nights and the whole lot just the same.

Then, she settled on accepting that he wasn't coming back.

And thanks to people like David Hayden and Bayard Ellis, though both in very different ways, she was able to forge on and look at life with a new set of eyes. But she doesn't know how to look at Elliot with that new vision, nor does she currently want to try.

He knows he screwed up in a major way but didn't think she'd reject him. Elliot never thought his honesty or sincerity at expressing _how_ he wanted her back, would be met with such coldness. Falling into his arms wasn't something he expected from her either, but this…this is a door in his face.

He obviously underestimated what she's endured since he's been gone. It's not just his abrupt exit that's prompted the changes in her. He's concluded that along with her trust, he's broken her heart too.

Nothing else would warrant such a callous response and he has no idea how to fix it.

"I know how much I hurt you," he acknowledges. "And you'll never know how sorry I am for doing that, for listening to your messages a million times but never returning any of them," he reveals. "But this…_thing _that's between us is more than just chemistry or lust or some itch I wanna scratch," he asserts. "I know you feel that too Liv, but I won't push you."

With that he grabs his shirt and climbs out of bed with her as she looks on. He has no choice. If Olivia doesn't want anything to do with him anymore, he only has himself to blame. It would've taken just _one _phone call to explain things and say goodbye properly and despite having logical reasons, he chose not to make it.

Besides, it's only the second time in three years they've seen one another. Surely he can get used to not seeing her face again for the rest of his life.

Right.

"It may be hard to believe," he begins, putting his shirt back on. "But staying away from you was one of the hardest things I've ever done," he confesses. "I hurt us _both_ with that decision."

Olivia feels the sting of tears with that admission and she has to turn away from him.

"I'll drive you home in the morning," he says, leaving her in his bed.

Alone.

The tears start to fall shortly after he closes the door. Olivia heard the regret in his voice, she knows he would do anything to atone for the sin of leaving her without explanation. And dammit she'd gotten over him. She's been doing just peachy in her post-Elliot life. But now she feels like she's back to square one, feeling more than she should for him for the fact that she's in a relationship with someone else.

She wakes up with a headache the size of Russia but slept surprisingly well after she managed to actually fall asleep. When she gets up she sees that he must've added another log because the fire is still strong enough to keep the room warm. On the nightstand to her right she notices a glass of water and two aspirin.

Even when he was mad at her, Elliot never failed to have her back. It's good to know that that part of him hasn't changed. But she suspects that he isn't angry this time, disappointed and possibly hurt, but not angry and it makes her feel like the bad guy.

Yet, for once she thinks, it's time for a little selfishness on her part.

She sits up and reaches for the glass of water, knocking back the two little white pills. If not for the three day weekend she's got coming, it would be a very long day.

When she enters the bathroom she takes the time to look at details she hadn't bothered with last night. The sink and toilet are white porcelain with nickel fixtures. The checkerboard floor tiles match the steel blue walls and guest towels.

Elliot has obviously done some renovating. And as much as she'd love to soak in the claw foot bathtub she's always wanted, she needs to get moving. Brian could've beaten her home and though she'd hate having to explain her whereabouts, she'd feel obligated to do so.

Olivia sees the towels and new toothbrush he's left for her. She takes a quick shower and brushes her teeth before redressing. Making the bed, she tries to leave the room as neat as she imagines it always is.

She smells coffee brewing as she descends the stairs and follows the intoxicating aroma into a large L-shaped kitchen with cherry wood and glass cabinetry. Her former partner stands with his elbows planted against a marble countertop, sipping on a cup in worn jeans and a blue NY Rangers hockey sweatshirt. His back is to her near the short section of the counter length.

Elliot's looking out into the sitting room and doesn't seem to realize that she's there. It's decorated with a matching sofa, chair and another accent chair. With two sets of glass patio doors, she can see the sun being hidden by gray, gloomy looking skies. Hopefully it isn't indicative of how the rest of her day will go.

Glancing around the space, it's easy for Olivia to see why he fits here. It has personal touches everywhere from Eli's finger-paintings that decorate the refrigerator to the oven mitts she's sure belonged to Bernie. It looks like a real home and she finds herself having to resist picturing how things would be if she were there with him.

She has no idea what to say to him about last night. He rescued her from the anguish of yesterday and they were actually having a good time, before they got to the part where he thought it'd be a good idea to put his tongue in her mouth.

If Elliot had kept it simple and said he only wanted friendship, she may have considered that option. But he wants _more_ from her, as he put it. More than she is in a position to offer and much more than she'd want to grantright now.

"Morning," she says, grabbing a cup from the dish rack and pouring her own coffee.

His focus remains on the sitting area before him and she has no idea if he's seeing what's beyond the glass or if he's inside his own thoughts.

"Morning," he responds evenly, giving her no indication of how he's feeling about her today.

Olivia carries her mug to the slate table sitting in the middle of the kitchen. She keeps her eyes focused on the black liquid in her cup and anything else in the room that isn't Elliot.

"Thank you for keeping the fire going," she says, nearly whispering.

Small talk is safe. She can do small talk.

"I remember how you used to get cold in the cribs," Elliot tells her with a shrugging of his shoulders. He's quiet after that.

Silence. Silence is not good.

He hardly got any sleep at all. And it's not just because of the crappy twin bed in his boys' room that he chose for the night. He was trying to figure out how Olivia could be so passionate with him one minute and pushing him away the next.

He came up lacking.

Could he have really been so wrong about how she responded to him?

"Liv, about last night," he tries, finally turning to face her. "I wanna to apologize," he continues. "I shouldn't have kissed you," he adds. "I brought you here because you were upset and…I wasn't tryin' to take advantage and…the things I said-

She holds up her hands to stop his rambling.

"Its fine Elliot," she tells him. "I appreciate you giving me a place to get out of my own head," she says. "And despite what happened last night, I know you didn't show me this place so you could ply me with alcohol and have your way with me," she adds, trying to lighten the mood.

He gives her a small grin as he sits at the table across from her.

"True."

"Besides," she begins again. "Up until I stopped you, you weren't forcing me to do anything I didn't wanna do," she admits.

"You know I never would," he asserts. "But I understand why you pulled away," he continues. "I wasn't trying to upset your stability or your sense of normalcy," he adds. "I know how important that is."

She gives him points for not saying, 'to a victim'. But they both know it's true.

And when she looks over to find his eyes on hers, there's no doubt in her mind that he's thinking the same exact thing.

"I should get home," she says, getting up to put her coffee mug in the sink.

"I'll get our coats," Elliot tells her.

Olivia finds her shoes where she left them underneath the table in the living room. She turns to find him in the entryway, dressed for the cold morning and holding her coat.

As he helps her into it, his fingers brush the back of her neck. She imagines there are goose bumps beneath the wool now. And she hates that in spite of how he's treated her, his touch inspires an immediate, visceral response from her body. Apparently_ it_ doesn't know that this isn't high school, he isn't the star quarterback and they're not ending a first date.

Early morning traffic is surprisingly light and they manage to make it to her apartment in only thirty minutes. But because of the relatively short car ride, the lack of conversation has made it seem much longer than it actually was.

They've never said so little to one another and _not_ been angry.

Elliot finds a spot directly in front of her building, pulls to a stop but doesn't bother to turn off the engine.

Olivia doesn't want him around. He doesn't need to be told twice. But he thought the connection they've always shared would be enough to warrant both her forgiveness and a second chance to be a part of her life. And though she's already in a relationship, Elliot didn't think an amicable cup of coffee every now and then would've been out of order.

Where usually such disappointment and hurt would result in his lashing out in anger, Elliot doesn't want that to be what she remembers, if in fact, this is the last time they'll see one another.

"I'm at a loss for words," he admits, staring out his windshield, watching as the busy people of Manhattan start their days. "This is our second goodbye in a matter of weeks."

A balding, pudgy little man, the proprietor of the florist shop that has her current focus, is putting out some of his sidewalk wares. She wants to concentrate on the beauty of those colorful petals instead of feeling the finality of the situation.

"I know," she says, turning to look at the side of his head. "But you're getting good at them," she adds, trying to lessen the somber mood.

One side of his mouth raises, the smile not quite manifesting.

"I don't think I want anymore practice," he tells her, and it's enough to extinguish the idea that any amount of levity will make things better.

She swallows harshly, averting her eyes once again to the flower shop. There's truly nothing left to say.

Olivia thanks him for the ride and is reaching for the door handle before he stops her, covering her hand with his, finally turning in her direction. She feels her throat growing thick but tells herself that she wanted this so she's damn well not allowed to cry about it. Managing to keep her composure, she turns to meet his eyes.

He takes her hand in his and she immediately holds on.

"Be happy Liv," he rasps, fighting his own emotion.

"You too El," she manages.

She gives his hand a slight squeeze before stepping out into the overcast skies of the Manhattan winter morning. And this time, it's Olivia walking away.

When Elliot goes home he'll see the mug she sipped from in his sink. His sheets will still smell of her perfume. And the last thought he has as he watches her move towards her building, is that while he doesn't know how long it took her to get over _him_, he's sure the imprint of Olivia will be around for a hell of a long time.

**Don't hate me…lol. Share your disappointment in a review if you want though. And don't worry. I'm sure it'll all be okay. Did you see "The End"? No? Trust me then.**


	5. Realizations

**AN: Sorry for the delay people. I told at least one person I was going to update yesterday. Too many balls being juggled at the same time. One of them was bound to fall. So, without further ado… **

The morning she'd come home after being at Elliot's all night, Brian still wasn't there. He came in two days later barely speaking to her, only saying that he was beat and was taking a shower before crashing.

That was two weeks ago.

She didn't realize being in IAB required so much undercover work. He missed her sergeant's ceremony and she had to tell him about possibly being pregnant _over the damn phone_. When they were finally able to sit down face to face, his relief at the fact that she wasn't carrying his child was all too obvious.

"_Thank God," he'd said. "Could you imagine…me…a father?"_

Maybe not but she's been told a million times how great a mom _she'd_ be. And having to watch the state take custody of that beautiful baby boy they'd found in a child porn bust, was twice as hard after finding out that particular dream was forever out of her reach.

Olivia can't imagine someone not wanting such a healthy, beautiful, happy child. And because of his obvious lack of desire for children, she didn't bother sharing those thoughts with Brian.

"**These last few days waiting, thinking that that door hasn't closed, I just imagined this whole other life."**

That's what she'd told Dr. Lindstrom last week. But she's never wanted a child with someone who didn't want one too. She'd rather be a single parent.

Yesterday she had to arrest Brian's favorite comic. He swore the guy used to be funny but even when he wasn't making rape jokes, he just…_wasn't_. Olivia's forgotten what, if anything, she and Cassidy have in common other than bad shit having a tendency to happen to them.

And she can no longer ignore the fact that he tiptoes around her like she's fragile, afraid to make a decision, using work to avoid coming home.

She's tried to hang on because Brian was there for her after the ordeal with William Lewis. He was at the hospital, gave her a place to stay so she didn't have to go back to where it all began and encouraged Olivia to talk to someone. He held her through her tears and comforted her when she woke up with nightmares.

He was exactly what she needed-at the time. But the longer they coexist, the more she realizes they're about as compatible as they were fifteen years ago.

All of those closest to her know how much she's always wanted a child. A select few are even aware of her adoption rejection five years ago. Heartbreak number two was being given a child that died hours later. Let down number three came in the form of Calvin being taken from her and sent off to Vermont to live with his grandparents. She hasn't heard from him in over a year. She hopes it means he's adjusting well.

But even if he doesn't want a baby, her live-in love didn't have to be so ecstatic about the fact that she wasn't pregnant. He could've been more sensitive about the news. Does he really not know that being a mom is a dream she's always had?

Olivia knows he feels the distance too.

So, they're meeting today at a diner not far from the courthouse. It's retro chic with wall to wall vinyl bar stools, booths and a jukebox that still plays 45's. It's decorated in red, white and chrome with a black and white tiled floor. It looks very much like something out of the 60's and has probably been there just as long.

Ironically it's the same place they met after he accused her of not believing he wasn't a rapist. He'd almost broken up with her _that_ day. Maybe she should've just let him go. But the thought of another failed relationship so soon after David was more than she wanted to handle.

"Hey," Cassidy says in his raspy voice, giving her a peck on the forehead before sliding opposite her in the booth.

That's another thing he's been doing and she's been allowing. Their kisses have been on the cheek, the forehead, her temple or anywhere other than her lips. The lack of passion is an additional sign of a dying relationship.

When she'd come in last night after dealing with the drama with Rollins, he was passed out on the sofa and Olivia hadn't bothered to wake him to tell him to come to bed.

"Hey," she says.

"How are things with Rollins?" He asks. "I heard a little about it and it sounded like a tough one."

"Yeah," she admits. "It got more than a little messy," she tells him. "She broke Fin's trust and made things even worse with Amaro."

"Amaro," Brian repeats. "He's got his own issues."

"Is IAB looking at him again for something?" She asks, furrowing her eyebrows.

"C'mon Liv," he says, accepting a cup of coffee from a waitress. "You know I can't say one way or another."

"Right," she says as they're left alone. "Sorry."

"He was cleared of shooting that kid," he offers. "But let's just say he'll never be completely off the radar after something like that."

"Thanks," Olivia tells him, leaning back against the vinyl booth.

They're sitting at a window seat and every now and then she looks away from Brian and outside. It's one of those days that's cold, but still sunny out. She wishes she could feel the same warmth on her face as she did in Brooklyn, standing in Elliot's living room.

"I'm sure you're doing a great job," he says. "But I'd hate to be the one having to supervise those three."

"Yeah well," she begins. "Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown."

He nods his agreement.

"So…," he begins.

"So," Olivia repeats, sighing. "I guess you're wondering why I wanted to meet with you in the middle of the day."

"Not really," Cassidy answers. "I've known we needed to talk for a while Liv."

Momentarily she eyes the Formica table top. They both know what's coming and why, but it still sucks.

"We haven't seen that much of each other over these last few months," she points out. "And when we do…

"We don't say much," he concludes.

"No," she agrees. "We don't. And it's not that we don't talk…

"We don't discuss what really matters."

Cassidy eyes the phone sitting next to his coffee cup like he can make it ring. She understands the desire but their conversation is long past overdue.

"We're not on the same page lately Liv," he tells her. "Plus I never talked about what was going through my head when I got shot and you never talked to me about what really happened with Lewis."

Olivia rubs her forehead, considering what he's told her and trying to choose her next words carefully.

"I know you left SVU because you couldn't deal with the victims so when I became one-

"Liv," he says stopping her. "C'mon I don't see you like that."

"Of course you do," she says, with a short humorless laugh. "You never disagree with me, you always let me have my way, we never argue about anything."

Brian rubs his temple in frustration. She's right.

"You still treat me like I'm gonna break," she nearly whispers, and then takes a moment. "I think you offered to move in together because you felt guilty that Lewis got to me."

He doesn't need to think about his response to her accusation.

"And I think you agreed because you were still too scared to be alone," he counters and she knows he's right as well. "We were protecting each other."

Olivia takes a breath before continuing, taking in the other patrons of the diner. A laughing silver-haired couple has just entered. There are teenagers sitting a few booths back, sharing a single malted milkshake complete with two straws. One of two suit-clad men that look to be in their thirties is apparently celebrating a birthday, a waitress brings a lit cupcake to the table and begins to sing.

If it weren't for the cab driver counting his tips in the back corner, she'd feel awkward about choosing this place and time to break up with Cassidy. It appears love's in the air at the _Blue Moon Diner_.

"I know I'm the kind of guy that doesn't do long term," Brian admits, garnering her attention again. "But for you…I tried Liv, I really did."

"I know," she tells him, offering a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "And it was actually good for a while."

"Yeah," he admits. "But it was more fun, when it was_ less_ serious," he suggests. "And then this thing with Lewis…

"It's not just that Brian," she interrupts. "When it comes to our goals, what we want out of life we're…out of sync and headed in different directions," she says, alluding to her desire for a family.

"We should've had this type of discussion _before_ we signed a lease," he points out. "Made that kind of commitment."

A waitress pauses at their table to top off their coffee before moving along to serve other customers. Olivia finds herself gazing out the window again. This time her eyes land on a couple sharing a bench. She watches as they laugh and the woman shoves the last bite of a hot dog into the man's mouth. They seem to be newly in love.

"Are you happy?" She asks, returning her focus to Cassidy.

He stops stirring his coffee to give her his full attention.

"Not really," he answers. "Are you?"

Olivia can't avoid the question this time, the way she did with her former partner.

"No," she confesses, looking down at her coffee cup before meeting brown eyes just as tired as her own. "Not for some time."

"Then where does that leave us?" He asks.

Even though she knew what was coming, ending a relationship when no one's at fault is painful. She feels warm moisture on her skin and reaches up to find that a few tears have made it past her normally stoic exterior.

"Apart I think," she manages, as he hands her a napkin from the dispenser.

"There's still six months left on the lease," Brian reminds her after a few moments of quiet. "I'm never there anyway so…I'll be the one to move out."

"You don't have to do that," she asserts.

"I can't sleep on a couch that long Liv," he tells her with a slight smile. "I have a buddy in the DEA on a deep cover assignment," he informs her. "He gave me key, told me to check in on his place from time to time anyway."

"That's more than just checking in," she contends.

"It's fine," he says. "He'd be cool with it."

Her phone surprises them when it starts vibrating on the table. They both assumed his would be the first to go off. Olivia glances at the caller I.D. and without a doubt, it's duty calling. Time to go.

"I got this," he tells her. "Promise me you'll bring someone here one day and introduce 'em to that world famous Cap'n Crunch French toast."

"I promise," she says, managing a small smile as they both slide out the booth.

He doesn't hesitate to reach for her once they're both on their feet. She lets the phone go to voicemail, wanting to do things the right way without distraction.

"I love you," he whispers in her ear as they hold one another to say goodbye.

"I love you too Brian," she says, squeezing a little tighter before releasing him. "And I always will," she adds.

He smiles in the boyish way he still has before turning to make his exit. Olivia lets her cell ring a few more times, allowing space for the emotion to leave her voice. No matter how things worked out, she's going to miss him.

"Benson," she answers.

And just like that another relationship is over. Olivia goes on with her day, putting her feelings aside like the professional she is. The case that interrupted their conversation was a rare easy close and she spent the rest of the day catching up on paperwork.

When she makes it home, all of his clothes and shoes are gone from their bedroom closet. And because William Lewis trashed her furniture and left her with a bed she'd never want to sleep on again, she insisted on paying for new things while Brian opted to put his in storage to sell later.

Hopefully he never got around to it because he'll need furniture for wherever he lands after his DEA buddy comes back.

She's a bit saddened by the demise of another attempt at having someone in her life but she's more relieved than anything else. At this she feels guilty but things between them weren't progressing in a good way.

If they had been, she wouldn't have nearly had sex with Elliot because she would've _wanted_ to go home with Brian.

Now she has neither of them.

The next morning is another hearing for baby boy Doe. Finding he's been through three different foster homes and has an untreated viral infection makes her worry even more for his wellbeing. He was healthy when she handed him over to ACS.

Olivia will keep praying for positive news where he's concerned. In times like these she tries to remember that he could've been sold to a pedophile before her team found him. The most she can do is keep trying to find his birth mother or the closest living relative he has.

If her life still revolves around SVU years from now, she doesn't want to come across the young boy's information in a case file.

Her day begins when she responds to a little girl trapped on a balcony. They get there to find Maddie Asher balanced on the railing, stuck with her butterfly wings coiled up in a cord. ESU has to repel down her building to cut her loose and keep her from falling.

What starts as a child neglect case turns into one involving domestic assault, childhood molestation and long term sexual abuse. Jenny Asher's life has been nothing short of hell. Her own mother saw her as competition instead of someone she loved and should've taken care of. She'll be in therapy for the rest of her life.

Thankfully the bastards that contributed to her nightmare, will literally have to pay for every session, any medication she'll need plus care for her and Maddie to the tune of four million dollars.

Considering what she was put through from the time she was in kindergarten, that amount is a small pence in comparison. Olivia doesn't think enough compensation exists to make up for being raped, sodomized and posed in various sexual positions throughout her formative years. Not to mention the fact that those videos and pictures were uploaded and shared with other pedophiles for over a decade.

She needs wine. No, scratch that, something stronger is definitely in order after having to watch the light go out of that young woman's eyes when she had to tell her who _'Lacy'_ was.

Thankfully Alex has made room in her busy schedule to have dinner. It's been nearly a year since she's last seen her friend and she could really use a talk with her right now.

She's surprised about the restaurant the counselor's chosen, though Angelou's is supposed to have great food. Greenwich Village is just not an area she pictures Alex in when she comes to mind. Apparently being married with a kid has broadened her horizons.

As Olivia walks through the crowded restaurant, she spots the blonde immediately, sipping on a martini.

"Hey," Alex says, standing to give Olivia a hug. "It's been too long."

"Yeah it has," The sergeant agrees, before the two sit. "And it's my fault for constantly flaking out on you," she explains. "I'll try to get better."

"It's okay," Alex says, patting her hand. "You know I, of all people understand how crazy life in the SVU is. No worries."

"No worries huh," comments Liv, "You did marry an Aussie didn't you?"

"Happily," she responds with a grin.

Just then a stressed out looking waiter stops by to take Olivia's drink order and asks if Alex would like another.

"I'll take a ginger and Jameson," Olivia says.

Alex looks on with slightly raised eyebrows.

"I'm good with this thanks," she tells the waiter as she plays with the olive at the bottom of her Martini glass.

"I'll be back with your drink in a few minutes," he tells Olivia, then leaves.

"Bad day?" Asks Alex.

"I'd say it was a win actually," replies Olivia. "Or is much of a win as there can be in my line of work. Why?"

"Since when do you drink whiskey?" The counselor questions. "I've seen you drink wine mostly, a beer here and there and the occasional rum and coke."

The detective can't help but think about how smoothly the drink Elliot gave her went down and warmed her from the inside out. That night seems to keep popping up in her head more and more and she doesn't know why.

Olivia feels his three year absence from her life is both justification for kicking him to the curb and confirmation that he obviously didn't want her in his. She wishes she could go back to not thinking of him so often. More than that, she'd like to erase the knowledge of his lips and hands on her body.

"Change is good," she tells Alex. "You should be able to relate since you're the one who traded in her 7 series Beamer for a soccer mom van," she adds, smirking at her friend.

The waiter returns with Olivia's drink and she sips it slowly.

"Yeah well," begins the blonde. "My mommy and lawyer stuff wouldn't fit in that car all at once."

The new sergeant would love to have that problem.

"Speaking of kids," segues Alex. "Have you guys made any progress on finding baby boy Doe's mom or any family?"

"I wish," says Olivia, shaking her head. "He's still with Child Services and it's not been good for him."

"It's not really all that great for any child."

When the waiter returns, he takes their food orders and disappears again. It's Friday night and the place is so busy they're surprised they got their drinks as fast as they did. It's bustling with activity but not so loud they can't hear each other's words.

"I'm sorry about you and Brian," Alex tells her.

"Me too."

"I didn't know him well but he seems like he was good for you."

"We were good for each other but…we just didn't want the same things," Olivia explains.

"You came together during the most horrible times in each of your lives," Alex recognizes. "Tragedy and trauma sometimes brings people together but unfortunately-

"It isn't enough to keep them together," her dinner companion interrupts.

"True," she agrees. "But I'll always be grateful to Cassidy for being there for you while I was in the hospital with Gavin."

Olivia covers Alex's hand, giving it a pat before letting go.

"You went into premature labor and delivered him early," she reminds her. "I wasn't expecting you to leave your newborn and Ethan at the hospital to come and prop me up."

Alex nods her understanding.

"How _is_ my god son?" Liv asks, smiling.

"Gavin's great," Alex tells her. "He's cutting teeth and keeping us up nights," she adds. "Let me know when you're available to babysit."

"With my schedule?" Olivia asks with raised eyebrows.

"Good point," says Alex. "So, how are you doing…with everything else?"

"Let's just say I'm glad I've been sending other women to Dr. Lindstrom all these years," Olivia answers. "He's been great."

"Good to hear."

It's quiet between them for a few minutes as they take in their environment. Both women let their eyes wonder around the room. The crowd seems to be a mixture of thirty-somethings and older. Those working in every career genre from the financial district to the fashion district seem to be in attendance.

The place is modern with exposed ductwork in the ceiling, chocolate brown leather high backed booths, cream colored table cloths, real plants interspersed throughout the tables, hanging giraffe print lamps, a full bar and an area for private parties.

"So how does it feel to be in charge?" Alex asks. "If I remember right, Cragen had actual hair on his head at one point."

"It's not bad," she tells her, smiling at the memory. "Someone has to be in charge so it may as well be me," she continues. "But I have to give credit to Cragen for being able to not only supervise, but handle all the paperwork, logistics and drama from the brass at the same time."

"And that's not all."

"What does that mean?" Olivia asks, defensively.

"You and that former partner of yours is what I mean," answers Alex. "The two of you cost _me_ some sleepless nights on more than one occasion so I'm quite sure Cragen had it worse."

"We had one of the best closure rates in the city Alex," she points out. "If we sucked, I'm thinking he would've gotten rid of us."

The prosecutor gives her a smile after looking at her like she's clueless. How soon Olivia has forgotten how she and Elliot had to get evaluated by Rebecca Hendrix, so Cragen could decide whether or not to split them up for being_ too_ close. Perhaps the detective doesn't remember divulging that tidbit of information after a few drinks in a place not unlike this one.

"I'm not talking about your closure rate," she says. "I'm talking about how volatile you two became it times," she continues. "Though it _was_ a lot better when I got back from Africa."

"Partners fight Alex."

The counselor gives her a raised eyebrow.

"Name two partners who fought as often or as hard as you and Elliot?" She asks her friend. "Take your time I'll wait," she adds, looking at her watch for emphasis before meeting Olivia's brown eyes again.

Fortunately for the detective, the waiter shows up with their food. He places a large Mediterranean salad in front of Olivia and gives Alex her zucchini tomato bisque. After making sure they don't need anything else, he rushes off to another table.

"So," begins Alex, blowing on her soup. "Did you come up with an answer for me?"

Olivia looks up from her salad long enough to give her a dirty look. She knows lawyers don't ask questions they don't already have the answers to. So she won't bother trying to give her one.

"That's what I thought."

"Just because we were loud about it, doesn't mean we were the only ones fighting," Olivia reasons. "And like you said, we were fighting much less or not at all when you returned from Africa."

"That's true," she admits. "But I just figured you guys finally gave into temptation and had sex."

Olivia stops chewing and starts choking, reaching for her water while Alex looks on trying to hide her amusement at the brunette's response.

"You okay?" She asks, after Liv stops coughing.

"Fine," Olivia answers after a few cleansing breaths. "And no Alex," she manages, gaining the ability to speak again. "We never slept together unless you count sleeping in adjacent bunks in the cribs," she continues. "He was married."

"Okay," she says taking her at her word. "So then, what changed?"

It's the first time she's been asked that question by someone other than herself. And she still doesn't know if she has it figured out.

"I honestly don't know," she says. "Maybe we just…grew out of it or settled into who we were to each other or got used of it."

"And who _were_ you to each other?"

Olivia takes a breath, puts down her fork and eyes the blonde across the table with as much sincerity as she can.

"Too much."

Alex leans just that much closer, moves her bowl off to the side and temples her hands in front of her.

"You've got to tell me what the hell that means," she says as if Olivia's about to turn over state secrets.

"We had this…_intense_ connection that lead to being able to anticipate each other's next move," Olivia begins. "If we weren't so good at our jobs, Cragen would have separated us years before Elliot's retirement did," she continues, picking up her fork again. "I guess we were just resolved to the fact that it was always gonna be there."

Alex looks to her friend with sadness. It instantly dawns on her that that type of bond is a once in a lifetime thing. She has it with Ethan and couldn't imagine never being able to act on it, let alone if her husband simply left one day.

"I know that connection wasn't just one way Liv," she says, reaching for her soup again. "How the hell does Elliot let a little toy badge and a short note be the last thing he communicates to you?"

"It wasn't," Olivia says, nearly whispering.

On cue like she's paying him to interrupt, the waiter appears again to ask if they're food is to their liking and if they need anything else. The place is finally thinning out and he seems a lot less frazzled.

"Another of these," says Alex, gesturing at her Martini and fighting the urge to ask for something stronger. She now gets why her friend is drinking Jameson.

The detective orders another whiskey and tries to look everywhere except for the icy blue eyes of her dinner companion.

"Olivia," Alex says, impatiently.

"We've bumped into one another a couple of times over the last month," she confesses as they both continue eating. "The first time was at the grocery store by my apartment and then two weeks ago after the trial."

"And how'd things go?"

"Fine."

"Oh no you don't," Alex tells her. "You tell me you bump into your partner of twelve years after he writes you off and things went _fine_?"

Olivia takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly before picking up the drink the waiter has so blissfully just placed in front of her.

"Okay, so maybe…not so fine," she admits. "He begged me for a few minutes to explain himself and I gave it to him," she adds. "He told me what he went through after retiring and it was all very reasonable."

"Bullshit."

Olivia shakes her head at this, smirking at her friend.

"It's true Alex," she asserts. "He went off the deep end after handing in his papers," she informs the counselor. "And again after finding out what Lewis did to me," she adds. "He told me that by the time he got his life together, he didn't think I'd want him around."

"And you responded how?"

The sergeant smiles briefly, and then winces at the memory of how much her knuckles ached.

"With my right hook," she tells her.

"You know how I abhor violence," begins Alex. "But good for you," she concludes holding up her hand for a high five that Olivia gladly meets.

"The man has a jaw like a cinder block," she says. "My knuckles were sore for two damn days."

"And what happened the second time?"

"It was after Lewis' trial," Olivia answers.

Alex knows about the extent of the psychopath's injuries. They're a matter of public record and all prosecutors talk. But there was no confession to her on Liv's part, that he was handcuffed at the time they were given to him.

"He bumped into me in the stairwell of the courthouse," she continues, leaving out the part where she was sobbing uncontrollably and racked with guilt.

"Elliot's not on the job anymore, what was he doing there?"

"Well…he's actually back on the job," informs Olivia. "You should know that, seeing as though he works as an investigator in the district attorney's office."

"Really?" Alex asks in disbelief. "Well, I am still getting up to speed after being gone for the last six months with Gavin."

"Yeah well, both he and Munch work for your office now," Olivia reveals.

"So he was there on a case?" Alex asks.

Sometimes Olivia forgets that her friend has worked in the criminal justice system nearly as long as she has. She can't avoid questions with her like she can with other people.

"Uh, no. He was finalizing his divorce."

Alex removes her glasses, wipes her eyes and pretends to be testing the hearing in both ears before putting her frames back on.

"I'm sorry. I thought you said Elliot Stabler finalized his divorce, from his wife of…forever."

"I did."

"Then clearly I'm missing something," says Alex. "What happened after you bumped into each other at the courthouse?"

"We went some place and talked," she tries, leaving out the parts where Olivia went back to Elliot's house in Brooklyn, how they made out like a couple of horny teenagers and how she stayed until morning.

Her denials that there's no romantic feelings between them would swiftly fall on deaf ears shortly thereafter.

"He wanted me to forgive him for leaving without considering how that'd affect me and for ignoring my attempts to get in touch," she continues. "Then he asked back into my life."

"And you said…

"I told him the truth," she concedes. "That I…don't know when I'd be able to forgive him and that I didn't think there was any room."

It's Alex's turn to take a deep breath and exhale.

"Then you're an even stronger person that I thought," comments the prosecutor. "I know how much he hurt you," she continues. "And he definitely deserved that right hook you gave him," she adds. "But…

"But what?" She asks, disbelievingly.

"He'd have to have a pretty horrible excuse for not contacting me," says Alex. "Because if it wasn't…if it was a _good_ reason, I'd have to ask myself if I'd want to let a twelve year partnership and a once in a lifetime connection just…_go_."

Olivia hasn't looked at it that way. It's been hard for her not to see past the pain he's caused. Then there was Brian. She couldn't have brought Elliot back into her life without feeling like she was cheating on him. Cassidy definitely wouldn't have appreciated it and she didn't expect that he'd be okay with it.

Add the fact that Elliot had basically said he wants her, in the least platonic way imaginable, and she had no choice but to tell him that an invitation back into her life simply wasn't possible. Even now that Cassidy's no longer an obstacle, she still can't forget the pain he caused.

Alex sees the pensive expression that has taken over Olivia's face and decides to lighten the mood.

"Well I know being in the witness protection program wasn't his excuse," she says, garnering an instant grin from her dinner companion. "But if he's getting a divorce after being married for nearly three decades, it must've been a doozy."

Olivia's about to explain when the A.D.A's cell phone begins to ring. After answering, a broad smile sweeps across her face and the detective quickly deduces that her husband is on the other end.

After concluding her call, Alex signals for and pays the check, explaining her need to get home to give Ethan a break from the crying baby.

"Thanks for dinner," says Olivia. "It's been too long," she tells her as they gather their things.

"And it better not be another year before I see you," responds Alex. "Your god son needs to remember what you look like."

They exchange hugs, Olivia promises to stay in touch and they go their separate ways. It was great seeing her friend and she's given her something to think about where Elliot's concerned…_other _than the night they almost had sex.


	6. After The Beast

**AN: The response to this story has been pretty awesome. So glad you guys are enjoying it. And even more so that you haven't been shy about telling me. Let's keep that going shall we? ;O)**

**PS: The one line that's in bold is directly from the ep and remains the property of its writer as does all the original SVU characters belong to Dick Wolf. **

_After_ CSU had taken all the pictures and forensic evidence they needed with his dried blood still on her face…

_After _they'd taken even more shots of the bruising around her wrists…

_After_ they'd taken Olivia's clothes, bagged and tagged them…her new boss Lt. Declan, demanded IAB give her the rest of the day off and question her about what happened in the morning.

She doesn't have to worry about being bothered by a ringing phone either. Lewis tossed it and she's long since gotten rid of the one in her apartment. Her cell has always been her lifeline anyway.

It doesn't matter.

Olivia still has her watch and she knows what time she's supposed to be seeing Tucker's perpetually scowling face in the a.m.

Things with Brian would be that much more strained if they hadn't already broken up-bullet dodged on his part, though he was genuinely relieved to hear that she was okay when she'd called him. Olivia knew he'd likely seen the news conference of her confession or heard about her subsequent surrender to Lewis. And though they're no longer together, she knew he'd be worried and she didn't want that.

Released two hours ago in hospital scrubs, all she wanted was to get back to a home she hasn't been allowed to enter in two days, for a long hot shower. And despite only being just shy of 4pm, sleeping until her meeting with IAB seems like a pretty damn good idea.

The shower was relaxing but rest has yet to find her. Olivia can't stop her wheels from turning. That son of a bitch made sure the image of him blowing his brains out would be permanently etched into her mind's eye.

It wasn't enough that he was going to make Amelia be present for Olivia's rape. No. That prick made her listen as they played Russian roulette with a .357 Magnum.

The first time around he poured booze down her throat, forced drugs on her, deprived her of sleep and water, burned and beat the crap out of her. It was a brutal, prolonged, physical attack.

This was all mental.

Every time she'd pulled that trigger against her temple, she'd flinched. It's said that in such situations, your life flashes before your eyes. Hers did not, only one regret after another.

She'd never married. Click. She'd never knew the joys of having a life grow inside of her womb. Click. She'd never gotten to tell _him_… Then it was Lewis' turn and she'd refuse to let any more regrets materialize. There were no more empty chambers left. _'I'm gonna die'_, she'd thought.

"**Look away Amelia."**

She never would've predicted him to be the suicidal type.

The thermostat in her apartment says it's a comfortable 70o. She knows this because she's checked it five times already. Therefore the chill that has her shaking is all in her head.

How is varying her routine or doing something different going to help with such mental images? The source of her fear and rage is gone. So what is she supposed to do now that she can no longer confront her demon? Olivia's sure_ he's_ gone to hell but where does that leave her?

Her career may be all but over after this. William Lewis wanted her ruined or broken and he may have just killed two birds with one stone with the suspicions surrounding his suicide. She was told Tucker hadn't even wanted to wait until she was finished being medically cleared before initiating his witch hunt.

Well screw him. The only thing she did wrong was give the slip to those two inept detectives that were supposed to be babysitting her. Amelia was saved and that's all that matters, at least to Olivia.

The apartment is as dark as it can get with beams of daylight still fighting to get through the curtains. A drink wouldn't hurt to take the edge off but she's avoiding alcohol altogether for the time being. Showing up with a hangover to talk to Tucker would just be more fuel for his fire.

She gets settled on the sofa to try and read a long neglected book, hoping it'll make her drowsy enough to go to sleep but it isn't working. She told Nick and Fin she wasn't all that hungry. Witnessing a violent suicide has a tendency to do that for you. But Olivia knows her empty stomach won't allow rest so she gets up hoping her refrigerator holds something that will appeal to her.

On her way, there are several knocks at the door. She doesn't want to be bothered and thought she was convincing about that fact when the guys left. She'd foolishly hoped they would pass along the message.

But the visitor is undeterred and the knocking resumes, faster and more insistent.

She rolls her eyes and inhales sharply, knowing she'll never get to sleep if she doesn't answer. Olivia walks through the living room and stops at the door. In looking through the peep hole, the person on the other side surprises the hell out of her. It's been months.

Elliot.

She opens the door to find him gripping both sides of the entry way nearly vibrating with intensity. His tie is loosened and two droplets of blood mar his otherwise stark white dress shirt. The stain no doubt comes from the cut above his left brow.

"Elliot. What are you-

"Is he here?" He asks, breathing like he ran the entire five flights instead of taking the elevator.

Olivia tilts her head and pierces her eyebrows together in question. Perhaps her former partner has gone off the deep end…_again_.

"Who?"

"Cassidy," he tells her. "Is he here?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "We…we broke up."

She doesn't know why that information rolled off of her tongue so easily for him when she couldn't bear to tell Nick.

Elliot crosses the threshold and begins an inspection for injuries. He lays his hands against the skin of her neck, turning her head one way and then the other. Continuing he looks at each arm, checking for cuts and bruises.

"Elliot stop, I'm okay," she asserts.

He does as she asks only to cradle her face with both hands before pressing his forehead against hers.

"I'm sorry he got to you again," he whispers against her lips. "And I'm sorry I couldn't stay away this time," he adds. "I tried Liv, God knows I did."

He pulls back to gauge her reaction and seeing how affected she's become by his words, he wraps her in his arms until he can feel her hugging him back. He doesn't have to wait long.

Moments later they release one another and Elliot closes the door behind himself, when minutes before he couldn't be bothered. He was much too concerned with confirming that Olivia was okay.

"How did you-

"I saw your supposed confession on the news," he responds cutting her off. "Then I called Fin…_repeatedly_, until he told me what happened," he admits.

Elliot realizes he hasn't let her go and steps back, stuffing his hands in his pockets for lack of something better to do with them.

"I just…I needed to make sure you were okay," he says, explaining his sudden presence. "I'll uh…I'll go now," he concludes, turning to leave.

Rationalizations are everything when you want something badly enough. And Olivia currently wants him to stick around. It's selfish and a complete contradiction to what she's said about there being no room for him in her life. She reasons with herself that she'll just clean up his eye before sending him on his way.

"You're bleeding," she says, prompting him to face her once more.

When he reaches up to touch his face, he winces as if he's just now realizing how much it hurts.

"And your hand is all red and swollen," she notices.

Elliot takes a look at both hands and sure enough, his knuckles are bruised. It's not like he doesn't remember how they got that way. But he'd rather not tell Olivia.

"I uh…," he begins, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Why don't you let me clean you up?" She offers. "Maybe give you an ice pack?"

He can't believe she actually wants him to stay. It was very low on the list of things he'd thought would happen when he decided to come over unannounced.

"Okay," he simply answers.

Elliot removes his coat and suit jacket, hanging them on a nearby rack. He removes the blood stained tie, stuffing it into his pants pocket. Then he just stands and waits, happy that she hasn't kicked him out yet.

He watches as she pulls a paper towel from the roll and gathers ice from the refrigerator door before placing it inside a Ziploc bag.

When Olivia turns from her task, she finds that he hasn't moved too far from his spot near her coat rack. "Timid" and "unsure" are words she never would've associated with her former partner in the past. Then again, the last time she saw him wouldn't have exactly inspired a welcoming feeling.

"You can have a seat on the couch Elliot."

He nods and moves to sit down. She gives him the ice pack for his hands then turns to leave.

"I'll be right back," she tells him, turning to head down the hallway.

When she returns she has peroxide, Neosporin, some cotton balls and a Band-Aid. Olivia sits next to him, pours some antiseptic onto a piece of cotton and dabs at the cut over his eye. A few minutes later she has the blood replaced by the antibiotic ointment and a bandage in place.

"Thank you," he tells her.

Elliot couldn't take his eyes off of her the entire time she was fixing him up. He never realized how much he took simply seeing her face for granted until he was no longer able to. He memorized every new sunspot and line that has appeared since he saw her three years ago.

What he doesn't appreciate, is the slight bruise marring her left cheek. Without thinking, he reaches up and touches it gingerly.

"He could've killed you," he rasps. "I'm glad he's dead."

"Everyone is," she tells him as he drops his hand. "No one's gonna shed tears over his suicide."

He nods knowingly before refocusing on her eyes.

"But why did it have to be you?" Elliot asks.

Olivia takes a breath, closing her eyes to get a break from the intense blue of his.

"He texted me," she begins. "Said if I didn't come alone to get Amelia, he'd kill her," she explains. "And I didn't doubt that he would, so I had no choice."

Olivia returns her gaze back to his. His expressions cover a range of emotions before anger gives way to hurt, which leads to another emotion that she continues to feign ignorance about.

"I hate that he wasn't caught before it came to that."

"So am I but if I hadn't gone," she says taking a breath. "That girl would've been raped, tortured and put in the morgue alongside everyone else he killed."

When Elliot thinks about that, his mind supplies a mental picture of those things happening to Olivia and he can't sit any longer. He creates some distance by walking over to her window under the guise of opening the curtains. Night has fallen over the city and the moon casts an eerie glow into her place.

"What did he do to you this time?"

Olivia sees his arms crossed over his chest, back rigid, like he's bracing himself to hear the worse. She'll spare him the details. They aren't nearly as horrific as when Lewis first got her alone, despite the fact that he splattered his blood all over her face.

"You know," she begins. "I'm gonna have to repeat it all about 500 times for IAB first thing tomorrow," she reminds him. "So I'd really like _not_ to start right now."

Elliot nods knowingly. He's had his own entanglements with Internal Affairs and is well versed in how they operate.

"Who did you get into a fight with?" She asks, noticing that his back straightened just infinitesimally more with the question.

When Olivia sees him take a deep breath before exhaling, she knows she won't like the answer.

"Detective Carlson," he answers, nearly whispering.

"Excuse me?"

"He and his partner were incompetent," he says with more confidence, looking over his shoulder but not meeting her eyes. "And it almost cost-

She gets up in a huff and turns him to face her.

"I can't believe you Elliot!" She yells, without letting him finish. "This was on _me_," she continues. "I'm the one who ditched them to go after Lewis!"

He's quick to respond, having anticipated the argument.

"If those two dumbasses weren't so focused on each other, they may have noticed you were gone!"

"Wait," she says, calming momentarily. "How the hell do you know all this?"

"I talked to him," he says, surprising her. "Chatted him up at some bar while he was nose deep in Coronas, whining about his 14 day rip," he explains with a scowl on his face. "He spilled every detail."

"This is unbelievable," she begins, pacing away from him. "I can't believe this shit," she goes on. "Now I have to explain why my _ex-partner_, who no one has a clue that I've seen or heard from, is assaulting people on my behalf!"

"He doesn't even know who the hell I was!"

"What?" She asks, stopping in front of the television.

"It was a cop bar," he says. "For all he knows we got into a fight over him being a Giant's fan," he adds. "Fin happened to have been there and he broke it up. You know he won't say anything."

Olivia plants both hands on her hips, shaking her head, telling herself to breathe and not hit him again.

"This," she starts, rubbing her forehead. "I don't need this Elliot," she continues. "I don't need you to take up for me, or rescue me or defend my honor," she adds. "I didn't need it when we were partners and I sure as hell don't need it now."

She can't believe what she's about to say, what she's about to do.

"I think…you should go," she says, meeting his eyes again.

Elliot sees the determination that he remembers. It's beneath tired eyes, but the fire still burns underneath.

"Liv…please," he begins. "I'm sorry. I didn't come over here to get into an argument."

Now she's curious.

"Then why did you?" She asks. "We aren't gonna be in each other's lives anymore Elliot," she reminds him. "We said our goodbyes and I haven't seen or heard from you in two months."

He moves closer to Olivia, effectively invading her personal space but managing to stop short of touching her.

"It's not something I wanted," he admits. "But yeah, we said our goodbyes."

Olivia remains where she is, resisting the urge to step back because of what his proximity still does to her.

"Then I'll ask again," she tells him. "Why are you here?"

"I had a long talk with Fin after he stopped the fight," he explains. "He told me he would've kicked my ass for the way I left if Carlson hadn't already tried."

She looks down and away, trying to hide her amusement. Good old Fin.

"He saw through my run-in with that jackass for what it was," he adds. "That I was just worried about you," he reveals, wanting to reach for her again. "He said that he was too," he continues. "And despite your protests that you were okay after he and Amaro dropped you off, he knew you weren't just gonna go to sleep."

Olivia finally gives in to the need to create some distance, returning to her spot on the sofa with her back against the armrest and her knees pulled up.

"So he what," she starts. "Sent you to babysit?"

Elliot shakes his head and gives her a small smirk.

"I think you know him better than that."

He steps to the coat rack and begins ruffling through the pockets of his suit jacket. Seconds later he pulls out a new cell.

"They found your smashed-up phone, but Fin told me Morales was able to transfer all your contacts into this one," he explains. "And he was gonna hand it over tomorrow but thought we'd both worry less about you if I dropped it by tonight."

Elliot walks over and hands her the device, taking a chance by sitting down beside her.

"And?" She questions, knowing he's leaving something out.

"And," he exhales. "If I could manage to make it inside without you slamming the door in my face," he adds. "That maybe I could see if you were _really_ okay."

Elliot conveniently leaves out the part where Fin assumed he already knew where her new apartment is. Also he sees the words, 'I'm fine' forming on her lips and decides on a different tactic.

"If you can tell me that you don't see Lewis in your head," he begins. "That when you close your eyes you don't hear him pull that trigger or feel his blood splatter on your face," he describes. "I'll leave and tell Fin that you're just peachy."

Elliot sees the affect such a visual description has had on her. He hated to put those mental pictures in her head, but she needs to deal with what happened right now, before it has an opportunity to grow and fester.

"I'm uh…I'm," she attempts again, tears forming in her eyes.

Olivia closes them tightly, trying to will away the images but comes up lacking.

"I'm not fine," she whispers, angrily swiping at tears. "I should be dancing on his freaking grave," she says. "Not crying."

Elliot places a gentle hand on her knee. "Hey," he says. "No matter how evil a person he was, what you witnessed today was something no one should ever have to."

She slowly nods, at a loss for words.

"Do you need anything?" He asks, sincerely.

She shakes her head in the negative.

"Are you sure?" He asks when Olivia reluctantly meets his eyes again.

Slowly she swings her legs over and sits up. Because what she needs is for someone to hold her, to just make the last forty-eight hours go away. But she can't ask that of him. He's not supposed to be in her life anymore. She wants it that way.

Doesn't she?

So, she nods that yes, she's sure she doesn't need anything and Elliot can do nothing but take her word for it. He gets up and she follows, preparing to walk him to the door.

A few more feet and he'll be gone she thinks. Then she can ball her eyes out like she suddenly has the urge to.

"If you ever need anything…"

Olivia plasters on the fakest smile she can muster, giving a short nod instead of trying to speak. Any attempt to use her voice will cause her to falter. She only need make it another foot or so to see him out and she can cry in peace.

But before Elliot pulls the door open, he watches her. He recognizes the hurt in her eyes despite the less than convincing façade she's putting on. Twelve years of witnessing that false mask of stoicism, was more than long enough to see her current expression for what it is.

Thinking about their history empowers him as he lays calloused but warm hands against her cheeks again, much like he did when he first arrived.

"I can't leave you like this," he says before pulling her to him.

She was so close. Now she's back to square one, crying in Elliot's arms when she swore she could do without him, didn't want him around.

The man is like a bad penny though. He just keeps turning up, seemingly after really bad shit has managed to go down.

And this time there's no stopping the waterworks. Olivia lets them out full force, a deluge of tears from the trauma of being forced to watch that psychopath blow is brains out in front of her and the body count he left in his wake.

The harder she sobs, the tighter Elliot holds on. They stand together for what seems and eternity as he rocks her, rubbing her back and soothing her with his words. He's held her more times in the last several months than he did during their entire partnership.

And Olivia doesn't feel like she's deserving of any of it. Not from him.

"I'm sorry," she says, pulling back and taking the handkerchief he offers. "I shouldn't be leaning on you," she tells him, trying to get some distance. But he's not having it, holding firmly to her waist with both hands.

"You don't have to apologize Liv," he says. "I'm glad it's me."

"But that's just it Elliot," she explains, freeing herself this time. "It shouldn't be you," she adds. "I'm giving you mixed messages and it needs to stop."

Elliot takes a step back to give both of them space to breathe and think. He rubs his forehead with his right hand, placing his left on his hip. It's a gesture of contemplation that she's seen before.

"Can I ask you something?"

This gets Olivia's immediate attention and she's not at all certain she wants to answer. Up until now, he's stifled his usually inquisitive self. Elliot's tried to keep their conversations in safe territory for fear that she'll do exactly what she's just tried to do. Kick him out.

"Sure," she decides, crossing her arms over her chest. "Go ahead."

He drops the hand on his forehead to his other hip and focuses a stormy blue combination of determination and hopefulness on her.

"Do you want nothing to do with me because you're still angry about the way I left," he starts. "Or do you really think our lives are truly better without one another in them?" He asks.

The conversation she had with Alex has replayed in her head more than once. Should she continue trying to ignore a connection that was twelve years in the making? Can she? Olivia has told Elliot she's already moved on, but if she's this hesitant, maybe that's just a lie she's been telling herself. One that she needed to repeat so that his absence would finally stop hurting so damn much.

"Because honestly," he continues. "I can't say that mine is."

"I told you-

"You told me there was no room because you were in a relationship with Cassidy," he interrupts. "I'm just curious as to what the new reason is, now that you've told me that's no longer the case."

Olivia looks at him like he's slapped her, appalled by his boldness.

"We _just_ broke up Elliot," she tells him, dropping her hands to her hips. "What do you expect?" She asks. "That I'm just gonna jump out of his bed and into yours?"

Now he looks like the one that's been slapped. And with the anger that's suddenly rising out of her, he just may be.

"I think you know me better than that," he protests.

"No Elliot," she denies. "I _used _to know you better than that," she continues. "You kissed me knowing full well I was with Brian at the time," she adds, walking away from him and to the window. "The man I knew would never have done that," she concludes with her back to him.

"First of all you _more_ than kissed me back," he reminds her. "And second, I apologized," he says, following behind her.

Olivia can almost feel him standing behind her, though more than likely it's because she can see his reflection in the glass.

"I was wrong and I admitted it," he continues. "So stop trying to pick a fight and please answer the question."

Apparently his shrink is just as good as hers. The man recognizes an evasive maneuver when he hears it or maybe it's because he still knows her better than anyone else. So, she takes a breath and responds.

"Yes," she admits. "I'm still angry about the way you ignored me after you decided to retire," she tells him. "As for my life there have been _a lot_ of changes," she acknowledges, turning to face him.

"Some were good like making sergeant," she says. "And some not so good like Cragen and Munch leaving."

"So…

"So, it's not better with you gone Elliot," she clarifies. "It's just…_different_," she adds. "And I've accepted that," she tells him. "It's fallen into a routine that I can live with and I need to keep it that way."

He worries his lower lip as he nods in understanding.

"Look, it's been the longest two days of my life," she continues. "And tomorrow with IAB won't be much better," she informs him. "So I'd really like to end this conversation now."

Elliot takes that as his cue to leave.

She uses the mere seconds it takes for him to get to the door to revisit the last three years. The highlights were her getting to spend time with Calvin again, helping a mom get closure regarding her missing son after thirteen years, gaining an ally in Bayard Ellis, making sergeant, and despite how they ended-her relationships with David and Brian.

The lowlights include the serial killer Rollins and Amaro helped track that first year after Elliot left, the hostage situation with the son of the sleazy producer who'd filled his head with misogyny but left out how he'd molested his sister, the dead hooker put in Cragen's bed, the subsequent fall out, and the cherry on top, William Lewis.

Olivia thinks back to how often she could've used Elliot's input on those cases, how he would've helped her through first Munch then Cragen's exits, and just how much she's simply missed him being by her side when she executed a warrant or talked to a witness.

All the ruminating brings her right back to Alex's question.

"_What's it gonna be?"_ Her inner voice asks. _"Will it be pride and anger, or will you try to forgive someone you were once closer to than anyone else in this world?"_

"Elliot wait," she says, as he opens the door. "Fin was right to send you," she admits. "And I could…I could really use a friend right now," she concludes.

Slowly he closes the door.

"Are you sure?"

She pulls her fingers through her hair and returns to the sofa.

"No," she answers truthfully. "But I've had a shit day and I'm too exhausted to dissect everything that's happened," she says, without filter.

It's not a profession of love, Elliot thinks. It wasn't even all that nice of an invitation. But he'll take it because he's got a lot to make up for. He hopes tonight will be the first of many they spend together, even if she did say it's a _friend_ that she needs.

He'll happily be that until he can convince her that he won't hurt her again. And he knows the key to that is trust.

Elliot nods his understanding before redepositing his things on a nearby rack. He holds her eyes as he joins her on the sofa, sitting a platonic distance away.

"Have you eaten?" He asks.

"No. I don't really have an appetite," she tells him, grabbing the remote to turn on the television.

She can't do silence anymore. It just amplifies all the images and thoughts running around her head.

"Well I am," he says, pulling out his cell phone. "And I'm not all that in the mood to cook."

Olivia listens as he calls General Tao's. She knows he purposely orders a couple of her favorite things, hoping to entice her to eat.

"You didn't have to do that Elliot," she admonishes. "I told you I wasn't hungry."

He avoids her gaze, attempting to focus on a show Olivia's knows he's not the least bit interested in watching.

"If you're hungry later, it'll be here," he answers.

It was a considerate thing of him to do and makes her sound like a complete bitch for the tone she gave him. He's sincerely trying.

"I'm sorry," she nearly whispers. "It was…very thoughtful of you."

She passes him the remote as a peace offering. He gives her a slight grin before taking it, opting to change the channel.

Elliot stops on an old movie that appears to be just starting. When the title screen comes up, he smiles to himself. It's _North by Northwest_.

"What made you choose this?" She asks, as he puts the remote on the coffee table in front of them.

"I've always liked it," he reveals. "I needed an elective when I was in college so I took this film appreciation class," he continues. "Been in love with Hitchcock movies ever since," he informs her, shrugging his shoulders.

She smirks at this.

"Me too," Olivia reveals. "I can't believe I never knew that."

Elliot can't help but grin back, happy that his movie choice has managed to distract her from the day she's had.

"Even after being partnered together for as long as we were," he points out. "I'm sure there's plenty we still don't know about each other."

She doesn't doubt that. Up until a few years ago, Olivia thought his mom was dead. Who knows what else the man's left out?

"You know more about me that anyone else on the planet Elliot," she acknowledges. "There's not much more to tell," she says. "I don't think I can say the same for you."

He knows she's right because he's always been the more private of the two. While he repeatedly encouraged her to open up to him, he'd been a hypocrite when it came to returning the favor.

It's something that needs to change if he wants to rebuild the bond they shared for over a decade.

"Whatever you wanna know…just ask," he says, turning towards her.

Olivia mutes the television. She folds one leg beneath her, moving further into the corner of the sofa.

"I still wanna table all the heavy talk Elliot," she advises him. "But I am curious about one thing."

He suspects she's curious about a lot more than one thing where he's concerned. She's just going to save it for later.

"You've kissed me twice now," she says. "I get why you did it the first time, we were saying goodbye," she informs him. "But the second…

She's caught herself ruminating on that little saliva exchange more than a time or two. The intimacy with Cassidy was a three alarm fire in the beginning, as most relationships are. But it had dwindled to plumes of smoke in the last couple of months they were together.

So, Olivia was glad she had the presence of mind to push Elliot away, especially when she was much more apt to continue. She hadn't realized just how strong their attraction was until that night. Normally she doesn't like to make comparisons but if what was between herself and Brian was a building fire, she and Elliot would no doubt set all of Manhattan ablaze.

His sliding closer to her as he explains isn't a good idea.

"You'd just told me you'd moved on, that I should do the same," he reminds her. "And that there was nothing more between us."

"And…"

"I was angry about it," he admits. "Despite how long it's been, I refuse to believe that our bond has just…disappeared and I needed to prove that to myself _and_ to you."

Judging by the expression on her face, Elliot can consider that, _mission accomplished_. He can probably count on one hand the number of times he's actually seen his former partner blush. So he makes the most of the opportunity, focusing on her so intently she has to look away.

He lays a tender palm to her cheek, pulling her focus back to him before dropping his hand again. He doesn't say a word, just seems to be challenging her with his eyes to say that he's wrong. She can't manage to make her lips form the words.

Luckily for her she's saved by a knock. Elliot gets up to answer, knowing it's the Chinese food he's ordered.

Olivia unmutes the television, gets up from the sofa and enters the kitchen for something to drink. She's suddenly very warm and her throat's as dry as the Mojave.

She opens the refrigerator to review her options and decides that if he's going to keep looking at her like that, she doesn't need alcohol to lower her inhibitions. She remembers what happened the last time she drank in his presence so green tea it is.

"What would you like to drink?" She calls out to him.

"Beer's fine," Elliot tells her, pulling the food out of the bags and placing it on her coffee table.

Olivia grabs her tea and the last of Brian's Blue Moon and joins him on the sofa.

She watches as he removes the Szechuan chicken and white rice she loves plus the beef and broccoli he enjoys. And while her mind says she doesn't want to eat, her grumbling stomach is loudly and embarrassingly disagreeing.

Elliot smiles but doesn't say anything. He wordlessly slides the food in her direction, hoping she won't put up a fight.

She doesn't.

They dig in, sit back and enjoy the rest of the movie. An hour and a half later his shoes are off and they're side by side with their feet up. Elliot looks over and thinks to himself that she appears infinitely more relaxed than she did after explaining how he got the cut above his eye.

"_Next up on the Hitchcock movie marathon, Rear Window," _says, the television announcer.

She sees his face light up like fireworks on Independence Day.

"What's that look about?" Olivia asks.

"Nothing," he says," beginning to clean up and package the leftovers. "I just…I've always had a little crush on Grace Kelly," he confesses.

There's another nugget of information she had no clue about.

"So then you've _always_ preferred blondes," she comments, giving him crap.

When she tries to help him, Elliot waves her off and continues to the kitchen. He's enjoying taking care of her.

"I'm sure you know that's not true," he asserts. "I'm attracted to red-heads as well," he advises. "Those brunettes though…," he dangles, turning off the kitchen light.

She ignores the flirtatious tone, knowing he's just trying to distract her from the day or make her laugh. Olivia's entertained but Lewis is still too fresh in her mind.

"But we're talking about Grace Kelley," she reminds him.

"Right," he says. "Great actress, classy lady."

It's dark and rainy out, the curtains are closed to the night and the only thing illuminating the room is the glare from the television screen and momentary flashes of lightening from the storm.

"I'm sure it doesn't hurt that she was breathtakingly gorgeous either."

"Can't say that it did," he admits, joining her on the sofa again. "And don't pretend your eyes weren't glued to the screen when Carey Grant was on."

He catches her trying to hide a smile.

"He was handsome," she acknowledges with a shrug of her shoulders.

"He was gay," Elliot counters, picking up two fortune cookies left on the table.

Olivia shakes her head.

"Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't," she tells him, accepting one of the little packages. "But he was the quintessential talk, dark and handsome man that a lot of women fantasize about," she concludes.

"Do you?" He asks with a smirk as he opens his.

When she was younger and before she learned that how a man treated her was more important than his looks, absolutely.

"No," she tells him, opening hers. "What's yours say?"

They used to do this at SVU on long cases. They'd order Chinese, have mindless conversation and read their fortune cookies when they needed a break. Afterwards they'd continue on, often renewed enough to find some little tidbit or clue they hadn't previously noticed.

"_Forgiveness costs nothing and changes everythin_g," he reads before meeting her eyes again.

Clearly the folks down at General Tao's have been tailing them. As for the fortune, well, she's working on it.

"What about yours?"

Olivia cracks the folded cookie in half and pulls out the little white piece of paper with her so- called lucky numbers on one side and the message on the other.

"_You'll soon get something you've always wanted,"_ she tells him. "That'd be a nice change of pace."

"Well if I win the lottery from playing these lucky numbers, I'll buy you whatever you want," he offers.

Unfortunately what's she's always wanted, he can't buy.

"I'll keep that in mind," Olivia says, turning up the television when she sees the movie starting.

Several hours later and they've finished _Rear Window_ and are half way into _Dial M for Murder_, when Elliot notices that she's dozed off against his shoulder.

He's loathed to wake her knowing how much she needs the rest but he should be going. He has work in the morning and she has a date with IAB.

"Liv," he whispers.

She doesn't move.

"Liv," he tries again a bit louder.

Nothing.

He employs a different tactic.

Elliot threads his hand through her hair, rubbing her ear with his thumb. She wakes from the contact, eying him sleepily.

"Hey," he says.

She sits up, pulling away from him.

"Sorry I fell asleep on you," she says. "Is the movie over already?"

"Uh no," he informs her. "But it's late and I know you have a long day ahead of you," he acknowledges. "I thought you might wanna get some sleep in a more comfortable position."

She was just fine with the position she was in next to him, but then Olivia looks at her watch. It's almost midnight.

"Right, yeah," she admits, getting up to stretch, massaging her neck in the process. "Is it still raining out?" She asks, going to the window to open the curtain.

"Yeah," he tells her as thunder rolls and a flash of lightening momentarily brightens her apartment.

Water is dripping down her window in sheets and she can hear the wind howling through the glass.

"You could stay if you'd rather not drive home in this," she offers. "I have…extra blankets for the sofa," she clarifies, nervously.

"I knew you weren't inviting me to bed Liv," Elliot says with a smirk.

"I didn't think you were…" she begins, not bothering to continue when he raises an eyebrow, challenging her to lie to him about it. "Okay," she says. "Maybe I did."

"It's okay," he tells her. "And thanks, I think I will stay," he accepts. "New York drivers suck in _decent_ weather conditions," he reasons, not really wanting to leave. He'll just get up early enough to get home and change before he has to be at work.

She nods and moves towards the hall closet.

"Here you go," she says, returning and handing him the linen and a spare pillow.

"Thanks," he tells her. "And don't worry, I don't snore loud enough to wake you at this distance," he adds, trying to make her more comfortable.

"Good to know," she quips back, walking towards her bedroom. "Goodnight El."

He can't get enough of hearing his nickname again in her voice. Saying he's missed her is a huge understatement.

"Goodnight Liv."

She glances over her shoulder once more before leaving him to make up the couch. Olivia is still finding it hard to believe that he's there after all this time. There are so many conflicting emotions running around in her that she simply goes numb.

Sleep will not come easy tonight.

**Thanks for reading and as always feel free to let me know how you feel about this chapter or the story as a whole so far. You opinions and input are appreciated.**


	7. Fighting Brooklyn

**AN: Sorry it's been awhile folks. For those of you still with me, I thank you. The bold and italicized dialogue is directly from the ep as well as what's in bold and belongs to its respective writers. Again, I take sole credit for the story, not the characters are anything derived directly from script. **

After Olivia closes up inside her bedroom, Elliot double checks the locks on the front door. He removes his shield and gun, lays them on the end table and extinguishes the lamp.

Removing his watch, pants and dress shirt, he tries to get comfortable on the small sofa. After about ten minutes of tossing and turning, he finally manages to drift off to sleep.

The wind has died down, the rain has let up and the only thing that remains of the storm are periodic flashes of lightening. He manages to get four solid hours before something wakes him.

The sheets bunch around his waist as he sits up. Elliot leans his head towards the front door but realizes that it isn't the source of the noise. When he hears it again, he's certain of where it's coming from.

It's Olivia in her bedroom and she sounds distressed.

Elliot hustles back into his slacks, rushes towards her door and knocks.

"Liv?"

No answer.

"Liv?"

Still nothing.

"Liv if you don't answer, I'm coming in."

When he doesn't get a response he enters her bedroom. Olivia's kicked the covers off and is dressed in a black v-neck sleep tee and matching pajama bottoms. One hand is next to her on the bed, the other rests on her stomach. Her breathing is erratic, she has beads of sweat on her face and her moans are no doubt what woke him.

"_**Say goodbye Olivia."**_

Elliot goes to her, sitting cautiously on the side of her bed. He places both hands on her shoulders, to give her a little shake, hoping to wake her.

"_**This is the last thing you're gonna think about before you die…the last thing you're gonna see."**_

"Olivia," he says.

Her eyes pop open, and all she sees is someone looming over her, touching her. Fighting reflexes kick in and she takes a few swings at him. Elliot dodges the first punch but she manages to land one before he can duck.

"Liv it's me, its Elliot!"

She stops throwing blows, sits up and reaches for the lamp on her bedside table.

"Elliot?"

"Yeah it's me," he says, holding his nose. It's bleeding.

"My God El, did _I_ do that?"

"It's nothing," he tries, but the pain from his nose is starting to make his eyes tear up. "I'm okay."

Olivia hurries out of bed to get a towel from her bathroom. She runs it under the cold water tap, and then hands it to Elliot, not wanting to hurt him any further.

"I'm so sorry," she says, sitting next to him on the bed. "I was having a nightmare and…when you woke me…I thought-

"You thought I was him," he concludes, through the towel on his face. "I get it, I should've known better, shouldn't have come in," he adds. "But I heard…I thought you were in trouble."

She exhales tiredly and runs a hand through her sweat dampened hair.

"It was just a dream," she explains. "I'm fine."

"I can tell," he says, holding his head slightly forward. "Those self-defense classes have really worked for you."

"Is it broken?" She asks, worriedly.

"No," he answers, squeezing the top of his nose to stop the blood. "I don't think so."

"I'm sorry," she repeats. "I…I just-

"It's okay Liv," he assures her. "I've had plenty of nightmares myself."

"And I'm pretty sure Kathy didn't get a bloody nose for waking you up," she points out, admonishing herself.

Elliot takes the towel away from his face, having effectively stopped the bleeding.

"I wasn't physically and mentally tortured by a psychopath for four days either," he says. "If I had been, who knows," he adds. "So stop blaming yourself because I don't."

She nods appreciatively.

"But if I keep showing up to work like this," he begins. "People are gonna start to think that I'm in an abusive relationship."

He gets the small smile he was hoping for and suddenly can't take his eyes off her. She has to turn away from him, feeling self-conscious of how she must look with sweaty, matted hair and no make-up.

"Did you get _any_ rest before I woke you?" She asks, changing the subject.

Between serving in the Marines during a time of war and having a house full of kids, he got used to operating on very little sleep years ago.

"As much as I would've if I were at home," he tells her. "What time is it?"

She reaches for her cell.

"4:47am," she says before returning her phone to the nightstand. Elliot gets off the bed and sits on her carpeted floor, not wanting to make her any more uncomfortable than she may be already.

Olivia backs up against her headboard, bringing her knees to her chest.

"Today is going to be a very long day," she says. "You wouldn't happen to have a fast forward button I could borrow do you?"

He smiles then, happy that she can still joke about her situation.

"Sorry," he says. "Left it in my other pants.

She appreciates the humor. At least her day is starting off on a good note.

"Liv," he begins. "Can I ask you something?"

Olivia thinks she knows what's coming. She thinks it's gonna be him asking about the end of her nightmarish trilogy with Lewis. She told him last night that she didn't want to discuss it and he knows better than to bring it up again. She's about to tell him to back off when he surprises her.

"What happened with Brian?"

The list of things she doesn't want to talk about his two items. The first is William Lewis and the second is the end of her relationship with Brian. Leave it to Elliot to touch on both in less than a day.

"Uh wow," she says, before exhaling. "I forgot how much you hate beating around the bush."

He looks up at her, giving her a knowing glance. She didn't want to have to discuss Brian any time soon but it appears it's a conversation that won't wait.

"We wanted different things…seemed to be moving in two different directions."

This, he's finding it hard to fathom.

"Cassidy looked at you like a lost pup," he begins, turning and resting his elbow on her bed. "He finally got you and things didn't work out?"

Olivia thinks back to that conversation on his front steps where she asked, _"Who else would put up with me?"_ It makes her smile to think Elliot believes she's such a catch, that Cassidy was pining away for her all these years later.

"As hard as it may be to believe," she begins. "I still think about having a child, a family and he didn't."

She looks over at him, gauging his reaction. He doesn't seem too surprised at her revelation.

"When I was growing up, it was just me and my mom," she reminds him. "And it was never perfect but we had each other."

"No family is perfect Liv."

"I know that," she responds, looking down at him. "But an imperfect family is still better than none at all."

Elliot's quiet for a moment, seemingly taking everything in. But it's not just that. Olivia can see his wheels turning, like he's trying to decide whether or not to tell her what's on his mind.

"I've always wanted that for you Liv," he rasps in lower voice. "When we'd go home from especially bad cases," he begins. "I wondered who comforted you, who gave you the strength to come back."

Olivia has to turn away. She's still getting used to the Elliot that doesn't shut people out or hides his feelings.

"Most of the time remembering why I was doing the job to begin with was enough," she tells him. "Other times I vented to your ugly mug," she adds, garnering a smile from him. "You helped more often than you know."

Elliot is more than happy to learn this. But he knows there had to have been more times where she handled things alone and simply suffered through them. It's yet another reason why he believes her to be the strongest person he's ever met.

"I'm guessing Brian doesn't dream of reading bedtime stories like _'Everybody Poops'_ to little Cassidys?"

Olivia doesn't bother trying to hold in her short laugh. She smiles at his understanding.

"Uh, no," she answers. "I don't think having a wife and kids are on his bucket list."

"Did you tell him about that night?" He asks.

She shakes her head and gives Elliot her full attention.

"He doesn't know," she tells him. "That's not…that night…it had nothing to do with our decision to end things."

"It didn't?"

"No Elliot," she says. "It hadn't been working for a while."

"Is that why you didn't want me to take you home that day?"

"Partially," she responds. "It was half wanting to get out of my own head too," she goes on. "But yeah, if we were as in sync as we should've been," she starts. "I wouldn't have kissed you, touched you or even gone home with you in the first place," she adds, now admitting her complicity.

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Heat of the moment I guess," she answers, not meeting his eyes.

"Come on Liv," he begins. "I told you the truth about why I kissed you," he says. "The least you could do is return the favor."

"That _is_ the truth Elliot," she asserts, refocusing on him. "Aside from the horrible days we'd both had, it was a nice night," she continues. "You made me feel better about my court testimony, the Jameson helped relax me, there was a fire going and…you aren't a horrible kisser," she concludes.

The image of him hovering above her, kissing her neck, nibbling on her ear and caressing the skin of her stomach pops into her head. It causes her a flush of crimson and she looks anywhere but the blue eyes that are no doubt getting a kick out of her reaction.

"Thanks," he says, deciding to give her a break. "You aren't so bad yourself."

Olivia finds his eyes again, thankful that he doesn't take it any further.

A shrill, annoying alarm makes them both nearly jump out there skins.

"You always get up at 5am?" He asks with raised eyebrows.

Elliot reaches to silence her cell as Olivia gets up and goes to the bathroom. After hearing her begin to shower, he redresses and leaves her to have the privacy of the bedroom. Entering the kitchen in search of sustenance, he's relieved to find that she at least keeps coffee in the place.

He's glad that they discussed their near indiscretion but he still doesn't know where he stands and he gets it. She's had so much to deal with that he doesn't expect her to add him and the drama he has a tendency to inspire, to the mix.

Elliot's willing to be as patient as she needs him to be, especially now that Cassidy's no longer in the picture. He won't push, he won't press, and he will not do anything that threatens the fragile thing that has resulted from his abrupt departure.

After about forty-five minutes she resurfaces from her bedroom dressed, wearing makeup, every hair in place and wearing an air of confidence he knows she doesn't really possess.

Olivia gives him a small smile as he hands her a cup of coffee.

"Thanks," she says.

"You're welcome," he tells her before moving to sit on one of the barstools.

Elliot looks pensive. She knows he wants to ask her what happened when she was alone for a second time what that sociopath but he won't. Still…he's worried about her.

"I don't think you should go in there alone today," he tells her.

"What do you mean?"

"You know I had my share of entanglements with IAB," he begins. "I think you need an attorney."

The similarities between her current and former partners are too much for her to handle sometimes.

"Nick said the same," she tells him. "But I'm fine Elliot," she adds. "This time…I'm going with the truth."

Olivia sees the disappointment on his face. The hoops that IAB wanted him to jump through knowing that he wouldn't are still fresh in her mind. His concerns are valid.

"I don't trust them Olivia," he says. "And neither should you," he continues. "Tucker can twist your words or goad you into saying something that can be taken out of context."

"I know that Elliot," she says. "I've been through this before too and since I know what to expect, I'll be ok."

Elliot exhales knowing that trying to get her to do something she doesn't want to, is about as productive as talking to a brick wall. He gets up to put his cup in the sink before grabbing his suit jacket and coat.

"I'll walk you out," he tells her.

They ride the elevator down together in silence. Once they reach the ground floor he turns to her.

"No matter how today turns out," he starts. "I want you know that even though the son of bitch deserved it, I know you aren't the one that pulled the trigger."

"Thank you for that," she says. "And thanks again…for…bringing me my phone."

They both know her gratitude is for a lot more than that. Olivia cried in his arms yet again, he got her food knowing she would neglect the task herself, gave her a distraction from the images of Lewis' suicide playing out in her head and was there to wake her from the resulting nightmare.

"You're welcome," he responds. "Thanks for letting me stay."

She turns to walk away and he stops her.

"Liv?"

He approaches Olivia again, standing before her.

"If you want a child," he begins taking her hand. "I'd still support you in any way you'd want to do it."

She looks down at her hand in his before looking up into his eyes. Seeing his sincerity she doesn't reply but simply smiles and nods. Elliot leans down and uncharacteristically places a chaste kiss to her cheek.

"Good luck today," he whispers as he pulls back.

Olivia's surprised by his tenderness. Touching her was something he was never able to do liberally nor was she free to allow it. Holding her hand was only for undercover situations and kissing her on the cheek or anywhere else never happened during their partnership.

She not so heartbroken over her breakup with Brian that she's not affected by Elliot's touch. But she doesn't entirely trust him either.

The two say their goodbyes. She sees him getting into his car heading in the opposite direction.

Olivia has a little bit of time before she has to meet with IAB so she pops into the diner a block away from 1PP. She doesn't have much of an appetite but she manages to eat her egg whites and whole wheat toast.

Once she makes it to the offices in IAB she's escorted into a room with Lt. Ed Tucker and Sgt. Cole Draper. They're sitting at a table with a camcorder and a microphone. After the false pleasantries they begin. Tucker hits "record" on the camera.

"Are you voluntarily and freely speaking to us?" He asks.

"Yes," she answers succinctly.

"And you are aware that you are entitled to representation either by an attorney or your PBA delegate?" Tucker continues.

"Yes," she repeats.

After that's out of the way, they both take turns asking more questions. Her thoughts keep going back to her last moments with Lewis. His hands all over her body, forcing his mouth onto hers, the sound and feel of him prying open her belt buckle.

"**Sergeant," Tucker says, trying to break her from the flashback. "Sergeant," he repeats. "Do you need a moment?"**

"**No," she tells him, snapping out of it. "I'm sorry. What was the question?"**

"**Did you at any time notify you're commanding officer of your location or intent," asks Cole.**

"**I did not," she responds. "From the text that Lewis sent me, I knew that if he saw back up that Amelia's life would be in danger."**

"**And when you arrived at his location…**

"**Lewis met me Glock in hand, pointing it at my head," she answers. "He then took my weapon and he threw it," she tells them, gesturing. "Along with my vest and my cell phone."**

"**Then what happened?" Tucker asks.**

"**He forced me into his car," she tells them. "Handcuffed me to the door and eventually drove me to the granary, where he led me at gunpoint to where Amelia was tied up."**

**They look on intently as she describes her ordeal.**

"**He then gave me a choice," she continues. "He said that, he could rape me first and then Amelia or Amelia first."**

**Tucker doesn't hesitate.**

"**And you responded…**

"**I told him to rape me," she answers without hesitation.**

**The other detective is surprisingly sympathetic when he asks his next question.**

"**Did he rape you sergeant?"**

**Olivia looks him squarely in the eyes and says, "He did not."**

"**Why not?" Cole asks immediately.**

"**Cuz I decided not to offer any resistance," she tells them. "Lewis gets off on the struggle," she adds without realizing she's still using his name in the present tense. "So as soon as I gave up, he got bored."**

A woman enters the interview room and Olivia immediately recognizes her as high powered defense attorney Rita Calhoun. She didn't call her, so needless to say she's very surprised at her appearance.

They stop the interview and the two women talk outside. Rita won't allow Olivia to tell her that her live confession wasn't coerced. She won't allow her to say anything about the first time she was under Lewis' control because she'd be legally bound to report her with grossly negative results for Olivia. Suspension without pay wouldn't even be a possibility. She would be looking at not only losing her pension but possibly going to prison on top of it.

Even though she's supposed to be taking time off, she finds herself back at the squad. Stripped of her badge and gun, she's on modified desk duty. Yet, she still can't stay away. She even manages to get some paperwork done before her new lieutenant sees her and sends her home.

Several days later during a celebration of IAB's findings Declan's knocks interrupt the wine toast with her colleagues. He has horrible news. The Brooklyn district attorney is convening a grand jury.

Over several days the Brooklyn A.D.A parades everyone involved in front of the grand jury accept for Olivia under Rita's advisement.

Strauss drags out Melinda to say that her findings are inconclusive. He trots out Olivia's protective detail to make it look like she intentionally went after Lewis to kill him herself. Nick's defensiveness makes it seem that the loss of radio contact and the time they took to find her and Lewis was too convenient. The ambitious D.A. even brought in Amelia to give the grand jury the impression that Olivia executed the psychopath without remorse.

And even after all that damning testimony the jury didn't seem to be buying what Strauss was selling. Lt. Murphy advised her and Rita that his plans were to bring back the doctor that testified in Lewis's trial about his injuries.

Olivia can't allow it. She waits until after Fin and Amanda's testimony is done but she knows what she has to do. For good reason, she once believed that if she was ever forced out of the NYPD it would be Tucker or someone else in IAB that made it happen. It nearly worked three years ago after being framed for murder so it was a plausible assumption.

She never could've predicted that a perp so sadistic, so cruel and unfortunately as psychopathically intelligent as William Lewis would come into her life and affect her so completely.

When she gets home she deposits her groceries on the kitchen counter and sheds her coat before beginning to put them away. Cooking for lunch she hopes, will take her mind off the decision that she's made to put her retirement papers in. It wasn't an easy one but there's no way she's going to give Lewis the power to end her career on his terms.

Her cellphone chirps where it sits on the counter with a new text message.

_Can I c u? – El_

Despite the fact that he's been there for her like he used to be, that he's held and consoled her on more than one occasion since bumping in to her, Olivia realizes he's still trying to respect her space and with that, her decision to keep him at a distance. She feels like she's giving him mixed signals again but she could use the diversion right now.

_ Home now. – Liv_

Twenty minutes later, three rhythmic but familiar knocks pause her cooking. She lowers the flame on her chicken and vegetable stir fry before crossing the room to answer. Olivia opens the door to find Elliot standing there.

"Hey," he says. "How are you holding up?"

She walks away allowing him to enter, not bothering to ask how he knows what's going on. Her job being in trouble is no secret.

"Okay considering my career's on the line," she tells him, continuing to the kitchen.

He follows through the living room, watching her with amused interest. Elliot's never seen her cook before.

"Do you have any indication how the grand jury's leaning?" He asks, removing his suit jacket and laying it on the back of the sofa.

"Yeah," she says, turning off the stove. "You hungry?"

He approaches the kitchen, sitting on a bar stool.

"I could eat," he answers. "You care to share?"

She pulls two plates from the cupboard along with a couple of glasses. Olivia then removes a pitcher of lemonade from the refrigerator and starts to pour.

"Or would you prefer something else?"

He looks at her with raised eyebrows, tilting his head.

"That's fine," he responds. "Are you seriously gonna avoid telling me what's going on?"

She walks around the counter to join him on the adjacent stool. Apparently his visit isn't going to be the distraction she was hoping for.

"It's not going well Elliot," she informs him. "Strauss, the Brooklyn D.A, has subpoenaed the doctor from Lewis's trial," she adds. "He's gonna revisit the injuries I gave him during…the beating," she continues. "After admitting to assault, excessive force and perjury on a live broadcast it would…

"Put the last nails in your coffin," he finishes.

"Yeah," she agrees. "If I testify and tell them it was true, they indict me for perjury and if I lie I've perjured myself twice."

He exhales, rubbing his hand against the day's stubble forming on his chin.

"Calhoun's pretty good Liv," he offers. "Things could still shake out in your favor."

She can't help but smile at his optimism.

"No one's that good Elliot," she tells him, turning to dig into her food before it gets cold. "If I wait until a ruling is handed down, I could lose my pension so…

"You put in your papers?"

She stares blankly ahead, takes a breath.

"Yeah," she admits. "I won't let Lewis take that from me."

After a few moments of stunned silence, Elliot mimics her position and decides to try the food she's prepared. He lets her eat in peace knowing she has a lot on her mind. She couldn't have arrived at the decision easily. Helping victims is not just her job, it's a part of who she is.

"That was pretty good," he comments when they're done. "And here I thought I was the only one with new culinary skills."

She gets up to clean, loading their plates into the dishwasher.

"They aren't new," she tells him. "I just never seem to have the time."

He takes their glasses and walks over to the sofa. Olivia joins him after the machine has started.

"It was you that retained Calhoun wasn't it?" She asks.

After ruling out Declan and the rest of the squad, she realized he's the only other person it could've been.

He sits back wide legged, laying his arm along the back of the sofa.

"Well I wasn't gonna let Tucker and his goon squad railroad you," Elliot says before sipping his lemonade.

"I'm glad you have just as big an aversion to me winding up with a D.O.C. number as I do," she tells him, stretching her legs out in front of her. "So thanks."

"You're welcome Liv," he says. "But it sounds like you're giving up."

"Why shouldn't I?" She asks. "Maybe it's time for a new chapter in my life."

He shakes his head in the negative.

"How many times have you walked away from that job only to return?" He asks. "First to Computer Crimes then to Oregon," he reminds her. "But you always go back."

"That's because I could," she tells him. "This time, not only could I lose my shield and pension but I could go to prison," she points out.

Elliot puts his glass down on the coffee table, taking a breath after hearing what she's facing.

"What are your plans?"

What is she going to do? She's thought of nothing else since giving Lt. Declan the heads up about her retirement papers.

"I don't know yet," she answers honestly. "I think I'm just gonna…take some time to figure things out."

"Maybe you could try to adopt again," he says, surprising her with his suggestion.

Despite talking about her desire for a family of her own, Olivia didn't realize it's something Elliot thinks about as well.

"We had this case recently that brought it to mind," she informs him. "This sweet little boy has been shuffled through at least three foster homes since he got put in the system."

Elliot reaches for the hand she has resting on the sofa between them and gives it a squeeze.

"Then you should try," he tells her. "You know I think you'd make a great mom."

She squeezes his hand back, thankful for his encouragement. When she pulls away he holds on, intertwining their fingers in a more intimate gesture. She looks down at their hands, then into is eyes.

"If you need anything…," he begins.

"I know," she whispers, understanding just how much he means that.

Elliot runs his thumb along her fingers and is about to say something when her ringing phone interrupts. Olivia releases his hand when she gets up to retrieve it from the kitchen counter.

"Benson," she answers, meeting Elliot's eyes from across the room. "Hey Rita, what's the news?" She asks, letting him know who it is.

He watches as her facial expression changes from one of worry to one of happiness and the relief is evident in her voice.

"That's great," she says into the phone. "Yes," she continues. "I think I'll do that in person. Thanks and I'll talk to you later," she adds, concluding the conversation before ending the call.

Olivia's smiling so hard her face must hurt. She returns to the sofa, taking her glass to sit in the sink.

"I hate to abandon you," she tells him. "But I gotta head back down to the squad."

"Don't leave me in suspense," he tells her, watching her from the sofa. "What's up?

"According to Calhoun," she starts. "Lt. Murphy's testimony swayed the grand jury to my favor," she reveals. "They voted not to indict so I get to keep my pension."

"And your shield," he adds with a smile, sharing in her joy.

He gets up from the sofa and grabs his suit coat, following her to leave. When Olivia turns to open the door he stops her, laying a hand on her arm. Elliot reaches down and places a short kiss to her cheek.

"Congratulations sergeant," he rasps in her ear before pulling back completely.

"Thanks El," she tells him. "And thank you for Calhoun and for…checking on me."

Olivia tells herself to ignore the tiny butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Those kisses of his are getting closer to her mouth. Yet, as much as she wants to let him back in, she's still guarded with Elliot.

But every time he shows up for her, proves that she can still count on him, another brick of that wall she's built around herself falls away.

**I know it wasn't fifty shades of porn but they're making progress…lol. Let me know what you think. Please and thank you.**


	8. Second Chances

**AN: I hope this update finds everyone well. Winter sucks. That is all.**

Nick's been arrested.

His badge and gun have been taken from him…again. And this time he's been thrown into lock-up with the same type of people he's helped convict. Why do all of her partners have to be such drama magnets?

She believes a person that goes through the trouble of creating a torture chamber is a ticking time bomb too but they failed to get a conviction. Nick could've found a better way to deal with it but she'll always have his back.

Olivia understands the compulsion to hand out a little street justice. Hell, she almost lost her badge because of the situation with William Lewis. But there's no way she was going to risk it again expressing her contempt over Simon Wilkes getting found not guilty.

It feels like déjà vu sometimes. Elliot was just as angry and self-destructive when his family crumbled. He nearly beat one of his ex-partners to death after finding out he was physically abusing his own son.

Hopefully Nick will get the help he needs the way Elliot did. Losing another partner, especially to the penal system, is not something she wants to think about. Even though she doesn't entirely trust him, perhaps Lt. Murphy can dig Amaro out of the very deep hole he's dug for himself. It worked for her but she senses he wouldn't do the same for Amaro.

Her current partner is giving her a headache and her former one is giving her a little bit of heart ache. Because of their conversation she can't stop thinking about baby boy Doe. She hates that name. Surely there's something else they could be calling him.

According to the social worker that keeps her apprised of his status, he continues to get shuffled around. With so many people in the world desperate for a child, she doesn't understand why he's been so hard to place, or why his mom has been so difficult to track down.

Olivia woke up about fifteen minutes ago with all of this on her mind and hasn't gotten out of bed yet. But not being able to cut off her thoughts isn't the reason she's not ready to start her day.

It was that dream.

_She slumbers soundly._

_The windows are open letting in the echo of rain as it falls on the asphalt streets below._

_A gentle breeze blows over her body, cooling warm skin caused by the unseasonably high temperature for a New York Spring night._

_Crisp thin sheets have replaced the thick winter duvet as she snoozes softly on her side, away from the window._

_Rest has yet to find him and he is selfish enough to interrupt her peaceful sleep. He begins by placing kisses from her elbow, slowly moving his way along her upper arm until he reaches her bare shoulder. _

_He lets his hand run beneath her cotton nightgown caressing her thigh. Knowing she's a light sleeper, he's well aware that it won't be long before his actions wake her. So he continues, moving her hair out of the way to place warm, moist kisses on the back of her neck._

"_What are you doing?" She rasps in a sleep laden voice without bothering to turn over._

"_I figured since we were both up," he mumbles against her skin. "That we could be…productive."_

_She smiles to herself._

"_But I wasn't up," she points out. _

"_Well you are now," he says, as she turns to lie on her back._

_Her gown his ridden up her legs and he finds himself planted comfortably between them, resting on his elbows on either side of her._

"_Hi," he says, smiling his most wicked grin._

_And though she's seen it before, it still does something to her._

"_Hi yourself," she responds, reaching up to caress the smooth skin of his face. The glint of a single stone from her ring is evident even in the dark room._

_He lowers himself then, capturing her lips in a soft, slow and sensuous kiss. They've not too long ago gone to bed and she still tastes like her vanilla spearmint toothpaste._

_When they break apart he moves his mouth to her cheek as he kisses down her neck. He pauses there to nip at her skin, giving her love bites. She tilts her head to one side giving him better access, loving the attention. _

_He's lowering a strap on her gown when sounds of the monitor on the night stand stop his intentions._

_The baby's crying._

"_Whose turn is it?" He asks, nuzzling his nose against her neck._

"_It's mine," she responds, moving from beneath him as he rises off her to lie on his back. "The thunder probably woke him."_

_She gets up, making the short trip down the hall to the baby's room. She picks him up, laying him against her shoulder. She tries rocking him and pacing a bit but he's still fussy._

_Moments later her husband walks in behind her. He puts his arms around her waist, placing a brief kiss on her shoulder._

"_Let daddy have a try."_

Her dreams have been dark as of late but they were what she came to expect after having to deal with Lewis. When she opened her eyes to a cascade of sunlight peeking through her curtains, she almost wished it had been a nightmare.

Instead her heart breaks a little for the life she left behind once she was ushered back into the real world by her phone's alarm. Olivia has never fantasized about having that life with her former partner. But she can't deny she's wanted it with _someone_. It's the life she told Dr. Lindstrom that she'd imagined having when she thought she was pregnant.

She silences the device as she gets up, having purposely used the most annoying ring tone she could find to ensure she wouldn't ignore it. And as she starts her day, she's finding it kind of hard to process that she dreamed of her and Elliot…_together_.

It isn't the first time she's dreamed about him. It's not even the first time they've been in bed in said dreams. When you spend a lot of time with a person you have chemistry with, it's no surprise. But what she hadn't foreseen was the marriage and the baby part. Two things she's always wanted but never seemed to have within her reach.

Olivia would happily forgo the marriage for the chance at motherhood. Yet, that dream was just so-real.

And she can't seem to get that orphaned child out of her mind. The judge's comments that no one had stepped forward to lay claim to him keeps her up some nights. Like her, he's all alone in the world and Olivia prays it doesn't stay that way. She's been looking for the baby's mother for four months to no avail.

If she wants to make it to his hearing on time though, she'd better get up.

She makes it to the courthouse and shuffles in to the court room with everyone else. Olivia greets his case worker Chantal and they sit together waiting for the young boy's fate to be determined.

"**This is baby boy Doe's fourth home in four months," says Judge Linden. "Can't we do better?" **

"**Absolutely your honor," responds the counselor. "None of this has been by design," she explains. "It's our hope that going forward we will get it right."**

Olivia hopes for the same. In the mean time she's grateful for the short time they allow for a visit.

When Chantal hands the baby to her, she instantly inhales as she sits with him. Despite being passed around like an unwanted fruit cake, he still has that unique baby smell. She runs her fingers through his dove soft hair, plays with his chubby little fingers and tries not to give in to the temptation of baby talk with so many people around.

Twenty minutes later she's in her car, headed to the precinct. She can picture starting and ending every day like that. Wanting a child is not a desire that's ever left her but it's something she's scared to pursue at this point. Olivia's had enough disappointment when it comes to that particular endeavor. She doesn't know if she can take another hit.

And neither can Amaro.

That's why she's glad John came back. Nick's not fighting for himself with all he's going through with the decimation of his marriage. He needs someone to talk sense to him, to reel him back in.

Declan isn't going to do it. He pulled her out of that interrogation with Simon Wilkes thinking she was channeling William Lewis. Now he's under the impression that she, "has an antipathy" towards addicts with children.

He didn't want to come right out and say it but it's what he wanted to say before he stopped himself. There's no way for him to know about her history with women like Vivian…or her own mother. Growing up with an alcoholic or drug addicted parent is not a fate she'd wish on any child.

That's why she's so disappointed to find Ellie Porter is Baby Doe's mother, correction, Noah's mother. If she had committed something other than misdemeanors, tracking her down would've come much quicker. Needless to say, she would rather the little boy stay a ward of the state.

Despite her opinions, her new C.O. ordered her to make nice with Ellie. Olivia allows her to see the baby in hopes that she testify against her pimp. It works and she and Fin get her tucked away in a half-way house until she can do just that. Ellie expressed the desire to get her son back, not wanting him to grow up without love as she did in a foster home. It was a little difficult for Olivia to listen to.

Knowing the likelihood of that happening, she tells Ellie to worry about getting herself together first. She doesn't have the heart to tell Ellie how hard it's going to be to regain custody from the state. Testifying against a dangerous guy like Tino will be trying enough without the added stress of knowing she may have lost her child to the system.

Maybe, that's why she ditches the nuns at the half way house a few hours later. Their only witness to robbery, rape and human trafficking is in the wind and they have no idea how to find her.

It's been a bitch of a week and all Olivia wants to do is go home, get out of her clothes, shower off the day and eat the leftover gazpacho. But for reasons she doesn't really want to ruminate too long on, she finds herself crossing the bridge into Brooklyn.

"I didn't think you could find your way off the island of Manhattan," he says, with a twinkle in his eyes as he opens the door. "Come in."

She walks in past Elliot, trying to ignore the fact that he's wearing the same smile he was in her dream. He's in socked feet wearing well-worn jeans and an equally lived-in blue Islander's t-shirt.

"Good to see you too El," she responds, following him into the kitchen.

She watches as he puts a pan of garlic bread into the oven and turns down the flame under a pot of what looks to be fettuccini alfredo.

"If you're expecting company I can go," she says, leaning against the refrigerator.

Elliot turns and eyes her as if she's grown a second head.

"Dressed like this?" He asks. "Who could I possibly be expecting?"

She laughs. He has a point.

"Uh, someone with low standards maybe?" She asks, removing her jacket to place over a kitchen chair.

Olivia has missed their banter, the playfulness, the bond they used to share. She stops musing just in time to see a dish towel being thrown at her for the smart comment. She swiftly ducks before bending over to get it.

"So what smells so good?" She asks, perusing Eli's artwork hanging on his refrigerator.

"A little Fettuccini Alfredo," he answers. "Which you're more than welcome to," he adds, sitting at his kitchen table.

"Sounds good," she says, her back still to him.

Suddenly she's at a loss for words. Olivia only remembers one other time when that happened. It was when she'd first returned from Oregon and they could barely look one another in the eyes. Awkward doesn't begin to describe how they were with one another.

But that was a different time and definitely for different reasons. Elliot didn't want to risk what they had by acknowledging what was between them and Olivia was tired of being the only one willing to lay all her cards on the table. So she left.

And the only things she learned in her absence was that she never wants to be an FBI agent and that a dysfunctional relationship with her best friend in the world was better than not having him in her life at all. No matter how much they bickered from then on, how it felt to be without him was something she never let go of.

Yet as much as that sucked, it hurt so much worse when he left her…and_ didn't_ return. The fact he cut ties with her was something Olivia didn't expect from him. That Elliot could do something like that, despite the best of reasons, is what's making her hesitant where he's concerned.

But she's come to him this time, though not exactly sure why. Perhaps it was the dream. She doesn't usually subscribe to the school of thought that dreams mean anything. To her, they're just something for your brain to do while you're sleeping. But this time, no matter how things shake out between them, Olivia thinks maybe her subconscious mind is telling her not to let him go again.

"Liv?"

She turns at the sound of her name.

"Yeah," she says, finally giving Elliot her attention.

Olivia rests against a nearby counter, hands tucked inside her front pockets.

"You okay?" He asks, a look of concern marring his face.

"Yeah fine," she tells him, joining him at the table. "Why do you ask?"

He shakes his head, shrugs his shoulders.

"You just…you seem a million miles away," he notices. "You sure you don't wanna talk about anything?"

Where would she start?

"Not really," she answers.

He nods in understanding. The kitchen timer goes off for the bread and he gets up. Elliot pulls plates and glasses from an upper cabinet and cutlery from a nearby drawer.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Sure," he tells her. "You can get the salad out the fridge."

He slices the bread, puts on a plate, adding it to what he's already placed on the table. A few minutes later, they're sitting down to enjoy the fruits of his labor. Olivia has to admit, she likes it when he cooks.

They sit in silence for a while, just eating. She's much hungrier than she thought she was because she's nearly finished before he's halfway done. Elliot's fettuccini is a great substitute for the gazpacho she planned on eating when she got home.

"So," she begins, as the meal winds down. "How are you adjusting to life after marriage?"

"Besides the back and forth with Eli, not too bad," he adds. "What about you?"

"I'm fine with your divorce too," she says sarcastically. "Surprisingly enough, it didn't take much to get over it."

He's shaking his head again, same old Liv. She deflects when she doesn't want to answer a question.

"You know what I mean," he tells her. "How are your sessions with Dr. Lindstrom going and are things with Amaro any better?" He asks, having heard through the grapevine about what happened with Nick.

There are very few secrets in the law enforcement community so she knows what he was getting at. Olivia just doesn't enjoy talking about her issues. She feels like she's whining and has never enjoyed doing that in front of anyone, especially Elliot. That's what her shrink's for.

"Dr. Lindstrom's good at what he does," she answers, finishing up her salad and taking a sip of her iced tea. "As for Amaro, I think Munch coming back is gonna be good for him," she says. "Maybe he'll listen to John because he sure as hell isn't listening to anyone else, including me."

When Elliot gets up to clear the table, Olivia joins him. She rinses and he loads the dishwasher making them quite the picture of domesticity. After they're done and the food is put away, she follows him to the living room.

"We found the baby's mother," Olivia reveals as she places her phone on the coffee table before sitting on the sofa. "She named him Noah."

Apparently food in her stomach is a catalyst for getting her to open up.

She watches as he moves to the now familiar record player. Shortly after she hears Thelonius Monk start to play. It's just loud enough to enjoy without interrupting their conversation.

"You don't sound too happy about it," he points out, shedding his shoes before joining her on the sofa.

"She's a drug addicted prostitute," she informs him. "She can't take care of him, she's the only witness in the case we have against her pimp and she skipped from the halfway house we put her in," she concludes, exhaling.

The music is beginning to affect her mood in a positive way. She could get used to this routine she's enjoyed twice now with her former partner.

"Meanwhile he's being shuffled from one foster home to another," she continues. "I've been going to the hearings hoping for better news but he's still in a state home."

"Why don't _you _try to foster him?" He suggests.

"Elliot you know I've tried adoption before," she reminds him. "And the circumstances that led them to turn me down haven't exactly changed," she adds.

"Yeah but with him having been through so many foster homes already, you could make a good case for yourself," he tries. "You never know."

She likes his optimism and wishes it were that easy.

"Maybe," she says, letting the topic go.

"So," he begins after a few minutes of silence. "What brings you by?" He asks. "Not that I'm complaining but…"

"I get it," she says.

Olivia exhales as she thinks about the answer to his question. She sits with her hands clasped in front of her and turns her head in his direction.

"I came by because I've realized I haven't exactly given you an answer when it comes to…where we stand ," she puts carefully.

"No, you haven't."

But she's been thinking about it. A couple of weeks ago he asked if her life has been better without him in it. She'd admitted that all the changes added up to it simply being different but not necessarily for better or worse. It seemed to be a good enough answer for Elliot.

"I've lost enough people in my life," she starts. "And up until a couple of months ago, I considered you one of them," she tells him. "It's something I never expected," she goes on. "Not like that anyway."

"Me either," he rasps but lets her continue.

"And as much as I like to get back what we had," she admits. "I know that isn't possible."

"Because of how I left," he acknowledges.

"Yeah," she says, focusing her eyes on the cushions between them. "And I don't know how to get past that," she tells him. "But-

The thought that she's come to tell him she's out of his life forever, sickens him. He can't let Olivia go, not now. Not when he's actually in a position to make something work with her whenever they're ready.

"If we can't get back what we had," he interrupts. "Can we try something new?"

She meets his eyes again at the question. Elliot hates the hesitancy, the skittishness he sees laid out in her browns.

"I'm not-

"I don't mean we should run away to Fiji Liv," he clarifies. "We've both recently ended relationships and I know you're not ready to jump back into another."

The fact that Elliot's even talking about the attraction that's between them is enough to make her think about all the ways he's changed. He'd never have done that in the past. She can't help but wonder about other ways he's different.

"Then what _are_ you saying?" She asks, seriously. "Because I don't want there to be any misunderstandings between us," she adds, alluding to what happened between her and Brian.

The last time she asked Elliot what he wanted, he replied with, _more_. It was the kind of more she was in no position to give him, especially after he'd laid that kiss on her and she realized what he meant. And because it was none too long ago, she's finding it hard to believe he suddenly doesn't want her in that way.

"I want," he begins before pausing to gather his words. "I want as much with you as you'll allow me to have," he decides on, bending his left leg up on the sofa, turning his body completely towards her.

Olivia mimics his position a few seconds later. She refuses to pick up their tradition of talking in circles and not clarifying what the hell it is they want to say.

"What does that mean Elliot?" She asks. "You've already told me you want more than friendship."

"I won't lie Olivia," he starts. "I don't wanna be your BFF again," he answers. "You have Alex for that."

"But you just said that neither of us is ready-

"I know," he interrupts. "But that doesn't mean I'll never be," he tells her. "So until we both are, I'll work on earning your trust back."

"And what if I'm never ready for an intimate relationship with you?" She asks.

Elliot gets kind of a twinkle in his eye, offering her a small smile.

"What's so amusing?"

"When I kissed you after court that night," he begins. "We nearly ended up having sex," he reminds her. "Do you really see us not progressing to the next step?"

Damn him for asking a question with a question. That's one character trait of his that she has not missed. Her eyes wonder to the record player over his shoulder as she stalls in responding.

"Falling into bed with you would be the easiest part of all this Elliot," she recognizes, meeting his eyes again. "The physical attraction has always been there," she admits. "But that doesn't mean the rest would work."

"Well you know it'd never be just sex between us," he points out. "I'd want it all Liv," he adds, growing serious.

"I know that," she tells him. "So I'll ask again, what if I'm never ready for_ more,_ as you put it?"

"If you decided that you didn't wanna go beyond friendship," he says, and then exhales. "Then I'd have to respect that."

"And you'd just be okay with it?"

"If you're asking if I'd like it, then no, of course not," he answers. "But I'd respect it," he adds. "I'd rather have you in my life as my friend than nothing at all."

It warms Olivia's heart to hear him say so.

"So," he says. "We'll go slow then?"

"Slow," she agrees. "And we continue being as honest with one another as we have been," she adds, another caveat thrown in. "None of that _'it never came up'_ bullshit I got when I found out your mom was still alive after eleven years of being partners."

"You got it," he acquiesces.

"Or _'it was for your own good'_," she continues, now on a roll.

"Not a problem," he repeats.

"Or _'I didn't think you'd want_-

"I get it Liv," he interrupts. "I know how rare it is for you to give someone who's hurt you a second chance," he says. "I don't plan on doing it again."

"Not everyone _plans_ to Elliot," she reminds him. "Sometimes it just happens."

Elliot lowers his leg before scooting down next to Olivia, leaving only inches between them. He takes a chance, placing a hand on her knee and leaning in so she can't avoid his gaze.

"It kills me to know that I caused you that kind of pain," he begins in a near whisper. "That I broke your heart," he adds, boldly. "And…I'm gonna do everything in my power to make sure that it _never_ happens again," he tells her earnestly.

It brings a tear to her eye, which he's quick to wipe away with his thumb when she finally tilts her head up and into his view.

"That sounds dangerously close to a promise," she manages.

"I'm not unrealistic enough to make those," Elliot says frankly. "But I am gonna try my damndest to make sure it's true."

The two stare at one another and Olivia's expression softens as another layer of resistance falls away. He eyes her lips and can't deny the temptation, doesn't want to. He's leaning in before he can stop himself.

Elliot cradles her face before pressing his mouth to hers. He slides their lips together before encouraging her to let him go deeper but Olivia stops him before he can take things further.

"We're supposed to be going slow," she reminds him, putting a hand to his chest and leaning away.

"Slow," he nods, backing towards his side of the sofa again. "Right."

It's a definite challenge to keep his hands off her.

"Dr. Crawley will be happy to know about this latest development," he says after a few minutes of just listening to the music.

"Who?"

"That's _my _shrink," he reveals. "And let's just say you've been the topic of many sessions with him," he says, peaking her interest.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," he admits. "I didn't realize how much I had to work through where you're concerned," he tells her.

She's brought up his name to Dr. Lindstrom about a thousand times so she's not going to judge him for doing the same.

"I can imagine," she offers.

A wild idea pops into Elliot's head and suddenly he gets up. He stands before Olivia, holding out his hands.

"Dance with me," he says.

"What?" She says, looking at him like he's lost his marbles.

"Come on," he urges. "When's the last time you were twirled?" He asks, as she shakes her head and gives him a smile. "Friends dance don't they?"

Olivia gives him her hands, allowing Elliot to pull her up off the sofa. Without his shoes, and while still in hers, they're nearly at eye level. She loves that.

"Just don't dip me Elliot," she warns him. "And you are _never_ to tell Munch or Fin."

"I promise," he says.

She fellows him a few feet to the left of the fire place, nearly in front of his large picture window. The stars are out and the moon is full and glowing, creating yet another intimate atmosphere for them. Apparently the rest of the universe is conspiring against her.

Elliot rests his hands at her waist, resisting the strong urge to put his arms around her completely. Instinctively it seems, she clasps her hands behind his neck. He doesn't try to meld his entire body to hers, instead leaving enough distance to make her feel comfortable.

The sway together slowly, turning every now and then to the smooth and mellow music being emitted from the old player. Surprisingly enough, she doesn't feel as weird about dancing with him as she thought she would.

And, Elliot's lighter on his feet than he appears.

"El," she says. "About everything that's happened…"

"Yeah?"

"I wanna forgive you," she concludes. "I'm…t_rying _to forgive you."

"I don't expect for it to happen overnight Liv," he tells her. "But it does feel good to hear you say that."

Hearing the news is like getting an early birthday present. If she had decided not to make an attempt to fix things between them, he'd likely be sitting on his shrink's couch more days during the week than he'd care to admit.

"But I'm not ready," she confesses. "You know how hard it is for me to trust people."

"Especially after they've screwed up as royally as I did," he acknowledges.

Olivia hears the disgust he has with himself for doing so. She rubs the nape of his neck as they continue to move.

"We both have things to work on," she offers. "And I know how sorry you are so you can stop kicking yourself…as much," she adds, garnering a smile from him.

"What changed your mind?" Elliot asks curiously.

She takes a breath and contemplates telling him.

"Something Alex said," she reveals. "I don't remember it verbatim but the idea was whether or not I thought the…_connection_ we have is important enough to try to get past how things ended."

"Since you're here with me, I'm guessing you decided that it is," Elliot tells her and she nods her agreement.

"I have," she admits. "We were partners longer than most," she points out.

"Friends too," he says.

"Yeah," she agrees. "Best friends. So I don't wanna hold on to that anger and resentment anymore," she adds. "Which is something _my_ shrink is gonna be happy about."

"I'm just happy to hear you acknowledge that we still have a connection," he says, alluding to her denial of one, not that long ago. "I was beginning to think it was just one-sided."

"That was the anger talking," she admits as her cell begins vibrating on the coffee table, interrupting their dance. Olivia releases him to walk over and answer it.

"Benson," she says.

It's Rollins on the other end telling her to meet her at a scene.

"I'll be right there," Olivia says before disconnecting the call.

She exhales a sigh of disappointment, not wanting to leave the quiet and comforting atmosphere she's created with Elliot.

"I gotta go," she says, tucking the phone into her pocket.

He goes to the kitchen to get her jacket for her and they meet at his front door. He holds it out as she puts her arms in the sleeves, then pulls the hair over the collar for her. It's grown fast since she last cut it. When she turns to face him again, she finds him staring.

"Be careful," he requests.

"Always," she tells him. "And thanks for dinner, it was really good."

"You're welcome," he says, pulling the door open.

Elliot leans against the frame as she descends his front steps.

"Liv?" He says, causing her to turn when she reaches the sidewalk.

"Yeah?"

"You won't regret it," he tells her.

She gives him a small smile.

"I hope not."

And off into the night she goes without knowing the gruesome scene that waits.

**Do what you do and please review!**


	9. A Pleasant Surprise

**AN: The continued reviews for this story have been great. Please keep them coming even if you have some constructive criticism. Hey, no one's perfect. **

Ellie Porter is dead.

She was gang raped and burned alive. A life wasted. One day Olivia tells her she's found her child and the next someone discovers her body. Though her opinion of the young woman was low, Olivia wouldn't have wished that type of barbaric, violent death on anyone.

Trying to find a way not to feel guilty about why it happened is something she's struggling with. Before Declan handed back the reins, he told her that they'd done all they could by putting her in a halfway house. That no one made her leave.

But if Ellie hadn't agreed to testify for _them_, she'd probably still be alive.

At least she got to hold her son one last time before she was killed. That's the only saving grace. Now they have to work on finding the one responsible because for all his confessing, they know Tino is just a street thug.

He didn't have the juice to green light Ellie's murder. They know both he and his mom are involved in human trafficking. But what they need to find out is who the person pulling the strings is. And it's going to be harder to do having one less detective.

Amaro's out of the unit, at least for the moment.

IAB's making him do his penance working traffic duty in the 12th precinct. It seems to be where they send all of their screw ups. Cassidy was exiled to the same place. Hopefully it's been cleaned up since the fiasco that almost got her ex killed.

Rollins knocks before entering the Captain's office Olivia's been occupying since Declan left to go back undercover.

"Come in," she says.

"We have a 19 year-old victim at Mercy General," Amanda tells her. "Fin's already on a call, you want me to go?"

"Yeah and take Simmons with you," she orders, not bothering to look up from what seems to be an endless stack of paperwork.

Amanda makes a face about the newest and hopefully temporary member of the squad.

"It's pretty bad Sergeant and he's only been here a few days," she points out. "Maybe I should go alone."

Olivia stops moving her pen to make eye contact with the blonde.

"We were all green at some point," she asserts. "He can only fill out paperwork for so long," she adds. "It's time for him to get his feet wet."

She remembers puking after hearing her first vicious rape story. Everyone knows Special Victims isn't for the faint of heart. And if you manage to stomach being exposed to the truly horrible things one human being can do to another, you might have a shot at being successful in the unit.

The SVU rookie should at least be given the chance.

Melvin Simmons came highly recommended by his C.O. at the 7th precinct. He graduated the academy at the top of his class, scored highly in marksmanship, interrogation techniques, defensive driving and physical training.

But he's not just another jock. He entered the academy five years ago with a master's in criminal psychology and a minor in forensic accounting. And thanks to two years in the Peace Corps he's fluent in three languages. The rumor mill suggests that he's just biding his time until he gets picked up by one of those alphabet soup agencies like the FBI or ICE.

Only, Simmons _requested_ the transfer.

Olivia doesn't know if he's just trying to pad his resume or if like Huang, he's an egghead whose genuinely one of the good guys. With his GPA, entrance scores, stellar academy performance and nods from several supervisors he probably could've gone anywhere in the NYPD or the country for that matter.

Everyone has their own reasons for requesting SVU. All she wants is someone who can do the job. His motives are his business and so long as he doesn't start getting into trouble like Amaro, she's willing to keep an open mind about him.

"Start the interview and let him jump in where he feels comfortable," suggests Olivia. "He'll find his own rhythm," he tells her. "You did."

Things are still a bit strained between the two women. With the senior detective, trust is something that's hard to earn and easy to break. But with each new case Olivia gives Rollins another inch of rope. Either she'll use it to tether herself to the unit or she'll hang herself with it.

"Yes sergeant," says Amanda before exiting the office.

It's only been a few days since Lt. Murphy left but Olivia had already forgotten the mountain of paperwork that can accumulate in such a short amount of time. And as if she doesn't have enough to do already, she's going to try to make Noah's latest hearing. She hopes they have better news than the last time she went.

Two knocks interrupt her trail of thought.

"Come in," she tells the new guest.

"Hey Liv," Fin says, walking into the office.

"Hey," she responds. "You get anything from Alicia Johnson?"

He furrows his eyebrows and cocks his head at his longtime colleague turned boss.

"Uh yeah," he answers. "After stuttering through two different stories she finally copped to it being her coach," he tells her. "She's at Hudson on a track scholarship," he advises her. "Told her he'd bench her and she'd lose eligibility if she told anybody."

"So where is he?"

"Cooling his heels in central booking," he responds. "Unfortunately he missed the last bus to The Tombs and he has to be there all weekend until his ass gets arraigned on Monday," he says, dripping sarcasm.

"It's a shame when things like that happen," she tells him, feigning sympathy.

Olivia doesn't feel the least bit of sadness that yet another person, who violated someone's trust in the worst possible way, has to spend the weekend in jail. He deserves that and so much more. Hopefully justice will prevail for Alicia.

"So what's up with you?" He asks. "You look like you were a million miles away when I came in here."

"I don't think a million miles would be far enough," she tells him. "But a vacation more often than every five years probably wouldn't hurt."

"You should go," he asserts. "If anyone needs it…

"Thanks," she tells him. "But I'm commanding officer, at least for now," she adds. "And we're shorthanded even with Simmons on."

"Speak of the devil," says Fin, watching as the new detective approaches.

Simmons appears in her doorway looking as if he just may have followed in her footsteps of puking after an interview.

Fin, seeing the expression on his face, decides to make himself scarce.

"See you Monday boss," he tells Olivia before making an exit.

Olivia nods before turning her attention towards Simmons.

"How's the vic?" She asks.

"Not good," he answers, entering the office and closing the door behind him. "She has a blood blister in one eye, a fractured wrist, broken nose and three cracked ribs."

"Did you talk to her?"

"She," he begins but stops to take a breath. "She cried in my arms Sergeant."

Olivia gets up from her chair, coming around her desk to lean against it.

"How are you doing with that?" She asks, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

She gestures for him to take a seat.

"I wasn't prepared for the physical injuries," he admits. "Rollins said it was bad but to actually see it," he begins. "And despite the fact that a _man_ had done that to her, she still talked to me, trusted me."

"Victims will surprise you," she offers. "Sometimes in a good way, other times…

"It just made me want to find the son of bitch that did that all the more," he tells her. "As long as I'm able to do that, I can deal with the rest."

He sounds confident and passionate about his new role in the unit. Hopefully things will work out because they can't afford to lose another detective.

"You won't always find the monster in the closet," she begins. "And even then things are not always so black and white," she continues. "Sometimes knowing you did all you could has to be enough," she adds, returning to the seat at her desk. "But you can always come and talk to me."

"I'll keep that in mind."

He leaves her office and Olivia goes back to doing her paperwork. She manages to put a nice dent in it and before she knows it, the day has wound down to nothing. It's Friday, she's assigned Simmons and Rollins to catch this weekend, so she gathers her things and rushes over to the courthouse.

Olivia squeezes in the door just in time for Noah's case to be called. She decides to stand at the back of the room not wanting to interrupt the proceedings. After listening for a few minutes, the news isn't good.

Noah still doesn't have a foster home, he has no familial ties that they can find and the judge is well aware of the fact that his mother was just murdered. Therefore she declares him an orphan, an official ward of the state.

"**Sergeant Benson you rescued the infant," says Judge Linden, surprising Olivia. "Isn't that right?"**

"**Yes your honor."**

"**You're the only one that's taken an interest on his behalf," she realizes. "Any chance you might…like to become a foster mother to this baby?"**

"**I'm sorry," Olivia says, stunned. "Excuse me your honor?"**

**All eyes are on the sergeant. Pippa and Trevor turn in their seats towards her, judging her reaction.**

"**I have a feeling about this Sergeant Benson," she continues. "Call it a judge's hunch."**

**Olivia is speechless.**

"**If you agree, I will order Noah Porter into your care as custodial parent for one year," Judge Linden tells her. "After which you'll be given the option to permanently adopt him," she continues. "Do you agree?"**

Olivia is dumbfounded, shocked. It takes a few seconds to regain her senses but when she does, she finds herself wordlessly nodding in the affirmative.

And just like that, she's somebody's mother.

After signing off on the agreement and all the other legal paperwork required for fostering a child, Noah's case worker Chantal helps get the baby and the minimal things he's accumulated into Olivia's SUV. It's a good thing she traded her Ford Mustang in for the Volvo XC60. There wouldn't have been nearly enough room.

Ms. Jackson takes time to show her how to properly install the car seat, lets her know when her first official visit will be and wishes her well.

Olivia takes a few minutes in the parking garage to process all that's happened in the span of two hours, looks at the cherub faced little boy in her rearview mirror and then heads home. Olivia hasn't driven so carefully since she had a pregnant Kathy in her car. She tries to block out how _that_ ended as she journeys towards midtown.

"Call Alex," she says into the Bluetooth enabled system.

"_Calling Alex,"_ responds the automated voice.

The electronic sound of the line connecting, reverberates throughout the cabin. It rings at least five times before her friend picks up.

"Olivia," she answers, sounding distracted. "What's up?"

"Hey, I was wondering if you could give me the name and number of the service you used to find Gavin's sitter," Olivia requests.

She can hear her godson in the background, apparently its bath time.

"Of course," she says. "But why?" She asks, worriedly. "She hasn't turned up in a case has she?"

She can't blame her friend. Her mind would probably automatically supply the same question. In their line of work, it's not farfetched.

"Um no," Olivia says as she comes to red light. "The judge in Noah's case just gave me probationary custody for the next year," she reveals. "I'm fostering him."

Except for the splashing she hears in the background, Alex's end of the line has gone silent.

"Alex?"

"Yeah, I'm here," she answers. "Wow, Liv. Just. Wow," she repeats. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Olivia tells her, chancing a look at the little boy in the back seat before continuing through the green light.

"How do you feel about all this?" Asks Alex. "I mean, I know you're happy but…it's all kind of…_sudden_."

"I'm elated for the most part," answers Olivia. "But I'm also terrified," she admits. "I didn't go to his hearing today thinking he would come home with me," she continues. "I was just hoping to find that they'd finally found a stable home for him to go to."

"They did," says the counselor. "Yours."

"You're not exactly unbiased Alex, but thank you."

"I can't think of a safer, more capable person for him to be with," adds the blonde. "The judge knew what she was doing."

"I hope so," she says, eying the little guy in her rearview mirror.

"I know so," encourages Alex.

Olivia can hear Gavin crying in protest as his mom is no doubt trying to end play time with his rubber ducky.

"I have to get this stubborn little devil out of the tub," says Alex. "But I'll text you the information as soon as I get him down."

"Ok."

"And Olivia?'

"Yeah."

"You deserve this," Alex tells her. "Enjoy every second with him."

"I will," Olivia manages before ending the call. She finds that she's emotional all the sudden.

Getting what she's always wanted has been an overwhelming combination of happiness, fear and guilt. Happy for obvious reasons, fear because while she's always wanted a child, she can't say she knows what to do with one and guilty because getting Noah came at the expense of someone's life.

When she makes it to her apartment she has so much to carry that she decides to just bring his diaper bag, her purse and him in his car seat. Just after she makes it through her front door, her cell phone beeps alerting her of a new message. True to her word, Alex has sent the information about the nanny service.

"Well little guy," she says, eying the sleeping baby. "You look like your day has been just as long as mine," she adds, removing the straps from the carrier.

She ditches her boots and sits in the corner of her sofa with Noah in her arms.

"I guess it's just you and me kid."

After a few minutes of just enjoying being able to liberally hold him, she decides to get up, carrying him to her bedroom. She lays him on her bed as he softly slumbers, rolling up a blanket to make a barrier around him, just in case. He's too young to be mobile already, but she isn't taking any chances.

Olivia knows enough to utilize the time he's sleeping productively, so she consolidates the contents of two drawers into one, making room for Noah's onesies and the other few clothes he has in his diaper bag.

She washes his bottles, nipples and pacifier and any toys she's able to get wet in her kitchen sink. When she hears his faint cries, she returns to her bedroom to check on him. Olivia picks him up, carrying him with her to prepare a bottle of formula.

Two hours later Noah has a full belly, he's bathed, changed and is back to sleep. Olivia takes the opportunity to take a quick shower, knowing he could awaken at any moment. Periodically she pauses and listens out for him, hoping she doesn't have shampoo in her eyes should he cry out again.

If the constant worry she feels about something happening to him doesn't wane, she'll never get another good night's sleep again for the rest of her life. Not that that was happening for her anyway. It's been a rough year but it's definitely looking up now.

After her shower she dons stretch pants and an oversized Brooklyn Nets t-shirt, left over from Brian's vast collection. It's ridiculously comfortable and she knows he won't call to ask for it back so she's claimed it.

She makes a call to the service Alex told her about, lining up babysitting for her work hours, hoping nothing comes up. Once she confirms the time, rate and who'll be coming, Olivia gets settled on her bed next to Noah.

She watches as he takes each little breath, inhales his scent and caresses the soft skin of his cheek. Her fingers play in the tufts of his dark hair, enjoying the downy soft texture. She's mesmerized by his ten tiny fingers and toes, even lowering her ear to his chest to listen to his heartbeat.

Olivia's still in shock that he's there with her but she's absolutely elated at the fact that he is. Because of what happened with Calvin, she's almost scared of getting attached. Though she knew it was only temporary, her heart didn't get the message. It was thoroughly broken when he was taken from her.

She takes a breath, trying to put it out of her mind and taking Alex's advice of just enjoying the fortuitous set of circumstances that has allowed her to have this sweet child lying next to her. The vibrating cell on her nightstand lends to a much needed distraction.

_Can I c u? ~ El_

Seeing who the text is from brings a smile to her face. She gets butterflies in her stomach at the thought of seeing him. And since they spent twelve years together, she feels kind of ridiculous but it's nothing she has control over.

Looks like it won't just be the two of them tonight after all. It's a good thing though, because as much as she is already in love with Noah, someone with a lifetime of experience doesn't hurt to have around in case she has questions.

_Sure. I'm home. ~ Liv_

_Gonna stop 4 food. U want anything specific? ~ El_

_Whatever u get is fine. _

Truthfully she doesn't care. She just wants to see Elliot's expression when he sees Noah and finds out the particulars of her becoming a mom in one day.

_Ok. CU in abt an hr. ~ El_

_K. ~ Liv_

Olivia continues to watch the baby sleeping while she waits for him.

"I promise you sweet boy," she begins. "I will find the person responsible for taking your mama's life and make them pay."

Forty-five minutes later Elliot's signature knocks send her to the front door. She checks on the baby one last time before rushing off to answer.

"Hey," he says, following her inside.

He's dressed like he's just got off work, suit, tie, and jacket. They hadn't made any definite plans to get together, but he'd hoped. He's been looking forward to seeing her all week. Elliot wants to come over for reasons other than an emergency or after some traumatic occurrence.

He wants to capitalize on every chance he gets, and their crazy schedules allow, to spend time with her. Elliot stopped, at what he hopes is still her favorite deli, to grab some food for them. And, _To Catch_ _a Thief_ and _Notorious_ were miraculously on the shelf at a local Best Buy store.

"Hey," Olivia returns. "What you got there?" She asks, gesturing to the packages.

"Broccoli cranberry salad and chicken salad on croissant," he answers, placing the bags on her breakfast bar. "You can have either one, I don't have a preference."

As he walks back through the living room to remove his suit jacket and coat, he notices the diaper bag.

"Liv," he begins, using the coat rack. "Are you babysitting?"

She looks over at him from the kitchen, having removed plates from the cupboards for their food. The grin that spreads across her face is broad to the point of showing off her dimples.

"No," she tells him. "I uh…I have something to tell you."

Elliot returns to the breakfast bar, sitting at the opposite side on a stool.

"Well I know you weren't pregnant and you didn't commit a kidnapping," he jokes, smiling back at her. "So what gives?"

She moves out of the kitchen and goes around to him, picking up his hand.

"I'll show you," she says, pulling him to stand. "Follow me," she adds, leading him to her bedroom.

Olivia stands in the doorway as he looks towards her bed.

"Who's this?" He asks with raised eyebrows.

"That's Noah," she answers, proudly. "Judge Linden is allowing me to be his custodial guardian for a year," she explains. "And if everything goes well, I can apply to permanently adopt him."

Elliot immediately shares in her joy, grinning from ear to ear as he walks the short distance to engulf her in a hug.

"I'm so happy for you," he whispers, not wanting to wake the baby.

"Thanks," she says, as he releases her. "I'm pretty happy for myself."

He looks back over at the baby with his hands on his hips.

"Wow," he says. "Olivia Benson's a mom," he adds, making her laugh.

She shushes herself and gestures for him to follow her back into the kitchen. Olivia knew that out of everyone else that knows her, Elliot would be the happiest about the news. He knows just how badly and for how long she's wanted a child to call her own.

When they enter the kitchen, Olivia goes back to putting their food onto plates. Elliot looks on from the bar stool watching her with a silly grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

"What's that look about?" She asks.

"I've just…never been so happy to tell a person _'I told you so'_," he tells her. "And judging by the way you're glowing, motherhood definitely agrees with you."

"Thank you," she says, blushing. "Can you do me a favor?" She asks, remembering the contents of her Volvo.

"Sure."

"What little Noah has, is still in my car," she explains. "Can you grab it for me?"

"No problem," he answers. "Where are the keys?" He asks, moving away from the kitchen and into the living room.

"On the table near the door," she tells him.

As Olivia puts their foods on plates, she notices the second bag. In looking inside, she's pleasantly surprised to find two more Hitchcock favorites. Elliot had shown himself to be thoughtful over the years. She's glad to know that part of him hasn't changed.

He returns a short time later and she directs him to put Noah's things in her bedroom. They settle on the bar stools eating side by side. When they're finished, Olivia goes to check on the baby while Elliot cleans up.

"He's still sleeping," she says, joining him on the sofa.

"If you're lucky he'll sleep through the night," he advises. "If not, well…you'll see," he adds with a huge grin.

"You don't have to look so happy about the fact that he may be keeping me up," she tells him.

"I'm not," he says. "It's just…now you'll finally find out what it's like."

She raises an eyebrow at him. She's well aware of the possible sleepless nights that await her. But you take the good with the bad when you finally get something you've always wanted.

"I guess that fortune cookie was right after all," she comments, watching him load her DVD player.

"Oh yeah," he says, coming back to the couch. "It said you'd get something you always wanted," he remembers. "I'm gonna have to go to that place more often because mine was right too."

_Forgiveness costs nothing and changes everything._

"It was," she acknowledges. "And I'm glad."

"Me too."

Telling Elliot she was going to work on forgiving him felt good, felt right. She's missed having him in her life. Though she eventually but stubbornly got acclimated to having two new detectives once he left, Olivia had definitely felt his absence, often times painfully so.

"_To Catch a Thief_ huh?"

"I figured it had both our crushes in it so it's a win-win," he tells her.

"Well, try not to drool on my sofa."

"No promises," he responds with a wink.

They get through the first movie and a quarter ways into the second before she realizes that Elliot is slumbering silently beside her. She takes the time to look at him, eying his strong hands, the solidity of his chest as it rises and falls with each breath and his slightly stubbled jawline. When her eyes rise to the rest of his face, she finds his blues staring back.

"Hey," he rasps.

"Hey," she responds, slightly embarrassed at being caught.

Elliot didn't seem to mind her silent perusal. He reaches a hand out, caressing the soft curve of her cheek with his thumb. He looks back and forth between her eyes and Olivia tries not to blush from the intensity.

"I really wanna kiss you right now," he says, nearly whispering. "But I know-

"That I'm not ready," she finishes as he drops his hand.

"Yeah," he says disappointedly.

Elliot sits up, turning away from Olivia and refocusing his attention on the movie he suddenly finds interesting again.

"You know," she begins. "I'm not getting any perverse pleasure out of keeping these boundaries up Elliot," she explains. "And I trust you with my life just-

"Not with your heart," he concludes.

She won't deny that she delights in his touch. And last week when they slow danced in his living room, Olivia felt like it was something they'd done a million times before. Yet as much as her head is screaming that she's not prepared for something other than a platonic relationship with him, the rest of her doesn't seem to be in agreement.

Thinking he's angry, Olivia starts to put some distance between them before Elliot stops her. He doesn't want her to think he's unhappy about her decision to work on their friendship first, so he reaches for her hand.

"Is _this_ okay?" He asks, glancing in her direction.

"Yes," she tells him. "More than."

"I know you're trying," Elliot says, caressing the top of her hand with his thumb. "And I appreciate it so I'm not mad," he explains. "But…

"You're disappointed that my trust in you isn't returning as quickly as you'd like," she concludes.

"Yeah," he admits. "But I told you I'd wait," he reminds her. "And I'll keep doing that unless you can't see yourself getting past the way I left," he adds. "Is that what you're tellin' me?"

Olivia interlaces her fingers with his, leaning in to place a lingering kiss to his cheek. She moves her face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in.

"No," she whispers and he can feel her breath on his skin. "I wanna see where this is going too," she confesses. "So just…_please_ be patient," she implores.

With how close she's sitting, the way she has one hand resting on his stomach and the other intertwined with his, how can he possibly refuse?

"Okay," he tells her as she pulls back.

"Thank you," Olivia says. "You want a beer, maybe a glass of wine?"

"A glass of wine would be nice," he answers.

As she gets up to get the wine, she stubs her toe, yelping out in pain before covering her mouth for the sake of Noah.

"Are you okay?" He asks, watching her hobble back to the sofa.

"Yeah," she says as she sits down. "Just clumsy is all."

"Let me see," Elliot tells her.

"It's nothing," she insists, trying to get up again, but failing.

"Come on," he asserts. "Let me see it."

Olivia brings her left foot up and he places it in his lap. He inspects all five toes, checking each one until she hisses when he finds the affected digit.

"I don't think it's broken," he says. "But if you still can't walk on it by morning, you should make an appointment for an x-ray," he suggests. "I'll get you some ice," he adds, gingerly placing her foot back on the sofa before getting up to go to the kitchen.

She picks up the remote, pauses the movie then rests her back against the arm of the couch, watching as he pours two glasses of wine after packing some ice inside a dish towel. As he approaches, Olivia's reminded of how well he took care of her a few years ago when she was sick with the flu.

At the time she hated to be fawned over, not wanting to be thought helpless. It's a good thing Elliot's just as use to her stubbornness as she is to his.

"Here you go," he tells her, handing her the glass of red.

"Thanks."

He places his own on the end table, picks up her injured foot to rest in his lap and holds the ice filled towel against her toe.

"So how do you know it isn't broken?"

"I've been a professional boo-boo fixer for a number of years now," he answers, making her smile. "I'm no doctor, but it's not swelling so that's a good indication that it isn't."

"That's great because Noah's gonna be keeping me plenty busy on top of work," she muses. "I can't be hobbling around on crutches."

"You'll be fine."

Her feet rest comfortably in his lap as she resumes the movie. She stifles a moan when he begins rubbing her feet. When he looks up at her, he has the same look in his eye he'd had earlier when he wanted to kiss her. In the moment, she sorely wants to scoot closer and oblige him but yet again, she resists.

When the movie ends a little while later, Olivia finds herself disappointed, knowing he has to go because they both have work in the morning.

Elliot excuses himself to go to the bathroom and when she attempts to stand this time, she finds that her foot feels much better. Apparently it just needed some ice and a little TLC from her former partner. She's barely limping at all in venturing to her bedroom to check on Noah.

"Well look at you," Elliot says, watching her return to the living room. "The boo-boo fixer strikes again," he adds with a grin.

She shakes her head at the epithet but shares his grin none the less.

"I'm gonna head out," he says, putting his jacket back on. "But thanks for having dinner with me."

"Thanks for picking it up. It was good," she tells him with a smile. "And the movie choices weren't bad either."

"I figured you might like 'em," Elliot responds. "Congratulations again on getting Noah," he adds. "He's a lucky kid."

"I'm the lucky one El," she returns. "I still can't believe he's here with me."

He takes a step closer to her as they face one another, taking hold of her right hand.

"I can't think of a better place for him."

They linger at her front door as if they're ending a first date. She pulls a stray hair behind her right ear, nervously looking down at her feet.

"Thanks for playing the boo-boo fixer for me," she nearly whispers.

"Anytime."

Not wanting to try for another kiss and get rejected, he instead takes her in his arms again, holding on for a little longer than he probably should. He hates having to let go.

And as he closes the door behind himself, Olivia can't help but wonder how much longer she'll be able to resist kissing him, touching him and letting herself trust him again the way she used to.

Only time will tell.

**AN: I know, I know. She's still keeping him at arm's length. But just stick with me people. Elliot is **_**definitely**_** gonna break through those walls in the next chapter. I promise.**


End file.
